


Resurrect The Sun

by monthebiff



Category: Asking Alexandria, Black Veil Brides, Falling in Reverse, Fearless Vampire Killers (Band), Legion of the Black (Music Video), Of Mice & Men (Band), Pierce the Veil, Wretched & Divine: The Story Of The Wild Ones (Album)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Desert, F.E.A.R. - Freeform, F/M, Multi, Rebels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monthebiff/pseuds/monthebiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mallory has always felt out of place in the remote city that she lives in, surrounded by deserts and controlled by a sinister organization called F.E.A.R. (For Every and All Religions), whose only goal is to wipe out all creativity and individuality. Life is miserable, and she longs for change.</p>
<p>That's when she hears of the rebels living out in the desert, known as 'The Wild Ones' who aim to overthrow F.E.A.R. and free the city.</p>
<p>An uprising is on the horizons. As F.E.A.R. and the outlaws clash in a raging war, is the chaos of The Wild Ones somewhere where Mallory can find a place to belong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. I haven't really edited, so any feedback would be hugely appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

I hurried along the dry, cracked sidewalk. Despite my eagerness to get home, I had to slow my pace to avoid looking suspicious. If I appeared at all mistrustful, the hooded minions who patrolled the streets would stop and examine me. It had happened before and was a less than pleasant experience.

So, instead my head stayed down as I did my best to stay unnoticed. The desert air and lack of breeze turned my throat dry and made my hair cling to my forehead damply, but that was the norm and so I'd grown used to the discomfort.

I passed shopkeepers closing up for the day, and a few people. The city streets were never really crowded (as most preferred not to venture out of the comfort of their own homes if at all possible) but they were busiest this time of day, where people were making their way home from a day's work – or, like me, walking home from school.

Shops always shut this early in the day; there were allotted time periods for attending church, and after, a reflection period. Then, the F.E.A.R. transmissions blasted from speakers all over town and showed on our televisions – if you were lucky enough to have one. They were spoken by an unseen sinister voice that always managed to make me shudder.

Church was absolutely mandatory; you had to attend unless there was a sufficient reason. 'Sufficient' meaning on death's door. If not, you would be arrested and taken to the F.E.A.R. headquarters: a huge, eerie building that I'd always mistrusted. The type of place you went into and never exited again.

The F.E.A.R. building – along with the ornately grand cathedral – were all stationed at the heart of the city. These buildings were surrounded by a ring of houses of the privileged, living in as much luxury as this soulless place would allow. The living conditions worsened the further out you went, with the slums on the very outskirts. There, a good house was a corrugated tin sheet propped against a wall, starvation inevitable and disease spreading like wildfire.

Go further, and you'd only find wasteland: endless desert, cracked and parched ground that went on as far as the eye could see. No one knew what went beyond. Those who were brave enough to venture out never returned, eventually dying of starvation or dehydration, unable to find their way back home. All alone in the sand.

As I walked, I thought of the stories my mother used to tell me when I was younger, about when she was growing up. Back then, she'd whisper in my six-year-old ear, there was lush vegetation growing everywhere; vibrant, rich green grass; crystalline lakes that glittered under the sun, and clear, cool rivers weaving a path through the ground. A time before F.E.A.R., a happier time.

All those things were long gone, leaving dust and despair in their place.

The sun beat down relentlessly on the city, baking it in sweltering desert heat, and beads of sweat began to form on the back of my neck. I cut through an alley, then I was at my house. It wasn't the best area of town, run down and just over a kilometre away from the slums; furthermore, we had the top floor because we shared with another family who lived below. But we could do a hell of a lot worse.

I unlocked the front door, made my way up the narrow flight of stairs leading up to our level. The eerie silence with the occasional muffled sound was no different than usual. Most people were so terrified that they were scared to even make a loud noise. After all, you never knew who was watching you, when F.E.A.R. controlled your every move. It was a miserable existence, reducing the population to paranoid, meek wrecks who were scared to even think for themselves, just living by the rules. 'Live with F.E.A.R., live in fear' was a pun that had been used far too often.

It frustrated me no end. Was I really the only one who was sick of the way things were, who longed for change, who felt that we deserved something more? Something better? Of course, I couldn't do anything. No one would listen to someone as young as me, and then on top of that I'd be punished for my insolence.

I opened our door at the top of the stairs, and stepped into the narrow hallway, the air cool and delicious compared to outside: the air con must've actually been working for once. The hall was just a small square of discoloured carpet with doors leading off into the different rooms. Four, in total. The living area and kitchen – which was really just a room with a sagging sofa, a kitchen unit in one corner, and the old television we had acquired, which sat on a small chest opposite the couch. Then, the tiny bathroom at the end of the hall with the permanently icy shower; my parents' room; and the bedroom that my brother, Oliver, and I shared.

It was pretty basic, but I had learnt to be thankful for what I had after seeing the people less fortunate than me, filthy and crouched on street corners with palms cupped in hope a passing stranger might drop a coin there. no one ever did.

Kicking my ratty old sneakers into the corner, I made my way into the kitchen/living room, the scene as it usually was.

My mother stood at the unit, peeling potatoes. She'd pulled her hair away from her face, exposing her delicate neck. Wisps of grey were interwoven with the black, despite being less than forty.

Dad was absent: most likely still at work, probably finishing up for the day. Oliver's skinny frame was perched on the couch, studying a textbook. His large, dark eyes flickered up to acknowledge me, then back down to his page. Sweet and timid, people adored my seven-year-old brother, yet found me and my ideas strange or intimidating. Because of this, people my age tended to avoid me – but I guessed it was better that way. Having friends in a place like this would only tie you down when things went bad. And I had a feeling that things would inevitably go bad at some point.

Pushing that negative thought away, I crossed the room to my mother, who set her knife (too small and blunt to do any real damage: F.E.A.R. wouldn't want to arm their citizens now, would they?) down and kissed me on the cheek before wrapping me into a hug. Her familiar smell soothed me as it always did.

"Hey, honey. How was school?" She enquired softly as she resumed her dinner preparations.

I shrugged blandly, "Boring. Stupid. The usual. What about you; you okay?"

I wasn't even sure why I was asking; I knew exactly what she would say, what she would do. She glanced up at me with her hollow eyes and stretched her lips into the forced smile that was expected. She said gently, "I'm fine, sweetie." This clashed with her expression: hopeless, vulnerable and most of all, scared. Just like everyone else here. I sighed inwardly, half tempted to call her out on it. But I knew she was doing it to try and protect me, protect Oliver. Pretending to be brave and strong. Of course, I wasn't the child I'd once been and I saw right through it.

Instead, I ignored it like always and carried on chatting and joking, doing my best to be loud and vibrant so we could almost pretend like everything was happy. I constantly told myself that this life, controlled utterly by F.E.A.R., was not a right one. We deserved better. But it wasn't like any of us could help ourselves either. We were but pawns on F.E.A.R.'s chessboard, all part of some sick game played by their rules.

The chess metaphor got me thinking as I retreated to my room to prepare for church. Chess always needed two players (I mean, I'd never played it, but I'd read about these things in the books my father sneaked home for me. F.E.A.R. forbade any forms of creativity or free-thinking, so items from before their time had been banned and confiscated. Working for F.E.A.R., he was able to get hold of these things occasionally and smuggle them back here if he thought they'd go unnoticed. Devouring these old-fashioned encyclopaedias, I could paint a more vivid picture of what life was before the world came to this.)

If F.E.A.R. was one chess player, then . . . who was the other?

Currently no one, as far as I was aware. I often dreamt of rebellion, but we all knew what happened to those who tried. Locked away in F.E.A.R.'s dungeons, never to see daylight again. With no spirited souls left, the life and freedom all sucked away by F.E.A.R., no one was left to save us.

_Give it time_. I did my best to look at things in a positive light, but it was hard.

At that moment, the sound of the apartment door opening and closing again came through the wall. My father returning home from work. I exited my room to greet him and see if he had any new books for me, but faltered as I saw that who had just entered was not my Dad.

Three tall minions, draped in black robes, wielding tall golden staffs and with their creepy skull masks pulled over their faces. They were making their way into the living area with a sweeping authority you couldn't argue with. My mother looked alarmed and my brother terrified as he shrank back into the threadbare cushions to try and hide himself. I crossed the room silently, then sat down and wrapped my arms around him. My mind whirred, bewildered and anxious as I watched the minions stride over to my mother.  _What are they doing here?_

"Where's the head of house?" The front one barked.

That would be my father. "He's in work at the moment. I . . . I'm sure if you wait a while, he'll be here. What . . . seems to be the problem?" My mother did her best to appear calm, but I saw her hands trembling.

"No need to wait. Just maintenance," He replied, "We need to take a look around."

I frowned; that sounded suspect to my ears. Authorities never usually visited houses unless it was for a good reason. Without waiting for my mother's consent, they split up in different directions, beginning their examination of the flat. The one left in this room began to search, looking in the kitchen cupboards, in corners, behind the couch. Oliver whimpered as the intimidating, dark figure loomed over us. I did my best to look fierce, inwardly panicking in case my forbidden books, hidden in the wall under a piece of broken skirting board, would be discovered.

This wasn't a maintenance check. I wasn't naïve. The minions were quite obviously looking for something. Or some _one_ , judging by the way the one in this room checked behind the curtains, the closet, then the chairs and under the sofa.

"W...what's going on, Mal?" My brother whispered fearfully in my ear, words tumbling over each other.

"They're . . . checking to make sure the house is okay, Ollie." I lied, turning my head to shoot him a reassuring smile; his only response was to bury his face into the crook of my neck, "They're scary." was his mumble into my skin. The heat of the day meant human contact was near unbearable, but I did my best to ignore it. My brother was more important.

"I know, Ollie. But they won't hurt you."  _I hope_.

Seemingly finished examining the place, all three joined each other back in front of my mother. Thank God my books seemed to have remained undiscovered.

"Is everything satisfactory?" She asked, with a little bit of an edge to her voice.

They said nothing. They'd picked up on the slight insolence, bitterness in my mother's tone. Just when I was starting to fear for her, the front one replied in its deep voice, "Everything is as expected. Just one more thing."

"Yes . . . ?" Her voice was quieter now, meeker.

A second minion passed a sheet of paper to the front one, who held it up for us all to see, "Do you recognize this man at all?"

The word, 'WANTED' was printed in bold letters at the top of the sheet. Underneath that was a picture of a guy, running away from the camera down the deserted street. I craned my neck to get a better view.

He was looking back over his shoulder, his jagged black hair whipping around his head. The picture was blurry, as the photograph had been taken while he was moving, and from a distance away; but I could see that he was lean and dressed it form-fitting, black clothes with a bandanna pulled over the lower half of his face. On the back of the dark jacket he wore was a large symbol painted in white. It was hard to see properly but it was kind of like a star, with curves around the edges of it. There was something painted above the symbol, but I couldn't make that out either.

My mother shook her head after a glance, "No. Sorry."

They turned to us. Ollie let out a choked, terrified sound as they took a few steps closer, "What about you?"

On closer inspection, I could quite clearly see the words on the back of the guy's jacket. They spelt 'The Mystic'.

Oliver frantically shook his head, too terrified to speak, and I said as calmly as I could, "No, I don't know him. Who is he?"

My mother shot me a warning look, but the minion replied emotionlessly, "A criminal that needs to be punished," Turning away and going back to the doorway, the head minion added, "Be sure to report to headquarters immediately if you see anyone or anything strange."

We all nodded. They left.

_A criminal?_  I couldn't help but be curious, couldn't help wondering who he was, what he was doing. I wondered if he was actually dangerous, or if he was a rebel.  _Please let it be the latter. It's time things changed around here._

"What did they want, Mommy? Why are they looking for that man?" Ollie asked our mother, who was now leaning against the counter, looking pale and weak and a little sick. More than usual, anyway.

"I told you, it was just a maintenance check," She smiled thinly at him, "Nothing to worry about, honey." Like she was trying to convince herself as well as Oliver.

"Where's Daddy?"

"He'll be home any minute. Go get ready for church."

Ollie nodded and dashed off. I got up too. _Right_ , I thought bitterly,  _Let's get ready for church, because everything here is so holy and perfect and wonderful._

 

~*~

 

_Ronnie stormed into the small room, expression twisted furiously. He marched up to Jinxx's seat and thrust a piece of paper in his face._

_"You complete fucking idiot!" He spat. His words bounced off the stone walls of the underground caves, "What the hell were you playing at? You can't just go running around the streets like that, letting them get pictures of you. Now, your face is all over the broadcasts, all over fucking 'WANTED' posters. You could've gotten captured! And now they know something's up!"_

_Jinxx glared. He opened his mouth to reply scathingly, when Danny spoke up._

_"Ronnie, let it go. We all make mistakes. Not Jinxx's fault. They probably knew about us already." His lazy accented voice drifted across the room along with a haze of smoke from the cigarette dangling from between his lips._

_Ronnie turned his scowl to Danny, slouched in his dark wooden chair, who watched him calmly with his blue eyes. He was smirking a little as he slowly exhaled smoke, his feet crossed over one another and propped up on the table that the five men were sat around. Danny knew that Ronnie got angry easily and enjoyed winding him up further._

_“I wasn't talking to you.”_

_Danny smirked, “Talking? Try whining.”_

_Scowling, the other man ignored that, "It’s not_ my  _fault he has no clue what to do with himself on raids!"_

_"Right here, y'know." Jinxx pointed a finger at himself._

_Ronnie went on, addressing the others, "He clearly can't be trusted in the city. We should--"_

_"Oh shut up, you self-important ass!" Jinxx interrupted, standing up to snarl at him, "I panicked, okay? I saw them coming, so I freaked out and ran. I didn't know they had cameras. I thought I was doing the right thing! You can ask Jake; he was there!" Jinxx stabbed his index finger towards Jake's chair. Jake looked up from the paper in front of him, a little startled that he had been dragged into the argument. He shrugged and held his hands up defensively._

_Jinxx rolled his eyes, before fixing them on the other two who were sat down, "C'mon guys, back me up here? CC? Andy?"_

_Christian shrugged casually, taking a swig of his drink and flicking a dark curl away from his eyes, "I'm staying out of it."_

_Andy resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Jinxx turned to him; he knew it'd be him who would have to make the peace. He usually had to, as the leader. So he stood and looked between Jinxx and Ronnie before saying firmly, "It's okay, Ronnie. We all fuck up sometimes; move on. F.E.A.R. are going to start suspecting more, maybe, so we'll have to be more careful when in the city; but it's not like Jinxx gave them our address or anything. We're safe, for now. It's fine," Just as Ronnie opened his mouth to protest, Andy held up his index finger to signal that he hadn't finished, "But it was reckless and stupid, Jinxx. I understand that you panicked but next time you listen to the orders Jake gives. You should know better."_

_Despite both looking surly they gave sounds of grudging agreement._

_"Good," Andy sank back down into his seat, "Now let's get back to work."_

_"Right," Jinxx nodded; he went to follow suit, but paused and added, "This meeting is private, Ronnie." There was an edge to his voice._

_Ronnie stayed put, frowning. Jinxx gave a loud huff to emphasize his annoyance, "Go away."_

_But Ronnie pointed at Danny accusingly, "How come he's here? I thought the meetings were for you guys only."_

_Danny groaned like the whole ordeal was paining him, "Ashley isn't here, stupid. I'm standing in for him."_

_"Why you?"_

_"Because of my dazzling looks and personality? I don't fucking know," Was his crisp reply, tapping his cigarette on the table to get rid of the ash buildup, "Now piss off."_

_The other guys couldn't help but crack smiles as Ronnie glared before exiting._

_“Shut the door on ya way out.” Danny called mockingly._

_"He's such a teenage girl." Usually mild Jake muttered with a chuckle._

_"Guys, seriously, focus," Andy reminded them. He spread the large piece of paper across the middle of the table. It was a carefully drawn map of the city, the churches and important buildings marked in red, "Okay. Any new additions?"_

_Jake, Jinxx and CC all leaned forwards; Jake with his pencil poised, "There's an alley through . . . here, to this street, which we didn't notice before. A shortcut." He sketched out smooth, straight lines, linking two streets._

_"Okay, great. What about--"_

_"Um, hello?" Danny said from across the table, waving his cigarette in the air, "No fucking clue what you're on about. Care to fill me in?"_

_"Right," Andy rotated the paper, pushed it across the table so Danny could see it properly, "We've been making a map of the city by memorizing streets, and where buildings are, the cameras, the speakers. The blind spots. Things like that. It's taken a long time, but we're nearly done."_

_"Fucking hell, that must've taken fucking forever. What's even the point?"_

_Andy exchanged a look with Jake, "So we know our way around without getting our asses busted. See, we've got a plan," He paused, "And this is where you come in."_

_He began to look suspicious, "Me?"_

_"You're good with electronics, computers, stuff like that, right?" Andy asked, already knowing the answer. He was pretty sure Danny knew everything there was to know about technology. His father had taught him everything he knew, and over the time they had been at their base camp he'd built up a computer lab, wires and monitors and buttons and weird devices Andy didn't even recognize spread over numerous desks in a small room near the west corridor._

_"I'm listening." Danny's face showed caution, but his interest had been captured. He was leaning forwards eagerly._

_"We need you to hack into something."_

_His lips stretched into a grin as he sat back, confident, "I see. I was under the impression you were asking me for something challenging."_

_"That something being F.E.A.R.'s systems."_

_His smile vanished; he gave a little gulp, then, ". . . I guess I like a challenge."_

_Andy smiled back, excited already, even though the plan was only just beginning to take place._

_"What are you going to do, you crazy motherfuckers?" Danny wanted to know._

_They told him the plan._

_He laughed, shaking his head in utter shock and awe, "You're all mad. Geniuses. If you can pull this off . . ."_

_They all grinned at each other, eyes glittering with excitement, unspoken hopes of victory so strong in the air they could almost taste it._

_The meeting disbanded soon after; Andy was left alone with echoes of footsteps in the corridors and the lingering smell of smoke. He grinned to himself. It was really happening. After all this time, all this preparation, it was taking place._

_Their time was coming._


	2. Chapter 2

Sat on the hard surface of the wooden pew, I tried not to fidget too much, but it was difficult. Church always made me uneasy, but even more so today; I couldn't stop thinking about the man on the poster. _The Mystic_. Even the name alone sounded intriguing.

Just who was he? And what was he doing?

 _If he was a rebel, he wasn't caught, so he couldn't have been acting alone. Maybe there are more_. I felt a strange mixture of excitement and disquiet at this thought. Yes, I knew wanted things to change, but it had been this way my whole life. I was used to the dull monotony of my daily routine. It comforted me, in some ways, that I knew what each day would bring. Did I really want everything to be torn apart?

I brought to mind the image of the almost permanent terror on Oliver's face. The misery in my mother's sea green eyes and despair etched into the deep, weary lines of her face. I thought about how everyone was forced to look the same, with our sludge coloured clothes and black hair – it had always puzzled me why we all looked the same, and then a rumour had gotten out that we were genetically modified to look similar. Whether this was true or not I was unsure.

I thought of the small, starving child I had seen a few weeks ago getting viciously beaten by one of the minions – all because she stole a scrap of food.

  1. I did want things to be torn apart.



At that point, I felt a jab to my upper arm, and looked to see that the minion at the end of the pew had poked me with the tip of his staff. The places where his eyes should be in the mask stared straight through me, hollow and soulless.

"Concentrate. Daydreaming is not tolerated in church."

I nodded meekly, turning my face to the front, bitterness lancing through me. _You're not allowed to daydream anywhere here._

Sighing quietly to myself, I scanned the pews around me, pretty sure that everyone was either sleeping or only pretending to listen. Nobody was truly devout, not anymore. If this misery was really God's will, then why would anyone want to believe?

The priest's low, murmuring voice echoed off the high stone ceilings, accompanied by strange, echoing piano notes. The church was the usual crucifix layout, with long, dark benches in rows on either side of the aisle that cut through the middle. It ran up to the podium where the priest stood as he recited from a large, leather-bound book. The church was a dim building of stone and was lit mostly by the tall, narrow windows. Candles were dotted around on large black candelabras embossed with the symbol of F.E.A.R. – the same symbol that was inlaid in gold on the wall over the priest's head, and carved into the doors and pews.

As we all obligingly bent our heads to pray – or pretend to, in my case – I knew that this was the only part people really took seriously. They didn't pray to be 'better citizens' like F.E.A.R. expected us to, they prayed for freedom. Happiness. Hope.

I didn't believe in praying anymore.

My mother clasped her rosary that she wore around her neck tightly between her hands, and bowed her head, mumbling ever so softly to herself. To my left, Oliver was sat with his hands together and his head down, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. His lips moved slowly, silently.

 _If there is a God,_ I mused, _then where the hell is he?_

"What are you praying for, Ollie?" I whispered to my brother, curious. His brown eyes opened and peeked up at me from under his hair.

"Us."

I frowned a little, "What do you mean?"

"Well," He explained solemnly, "Everyone is so sad. Mommy shakes and cries so much, Daddy is in work all the time and doesn't give me bedtime stories like he used to. And you never smile anymore. I'm praying for God to make people happy again."

It broke my heart to see how already Ollie's naivety was rapidly disappearing. Children grew up too fast here, learning too quickly of the permanent sorrow that hung heavy in the air.

I remembered myself at his age; starting to notice my Dad's increasing absenteeism and the bags under his eyes; the permanent waver in my mother's voice and the dead look in her eyes. Being blissfully ignorant, I would talk too loud and ask too many questions. As a result, my family were given a warning, so my father sat me down one day and explained to me the way things were around here.

I nudged his shoulder affectionately, "Mommy's just tired, that's all. And Daddy is very busy. He's got an important job. Everything's fine, Ollie. You don't have to worry." I didn't want to, _couldn't_ , be honest with him. He was my little brother and I wanted to protect his innocence for as long as I possibly could, even if it was already tainted.

He shook his head sadly, but then bowed his head again without another word. I sighed to myself, no clue what to do to make him believe me. Most likely he had heard something at school from one of the other kids about how corrupted F.E.A.R. were.

The rest of the service carried on in the same dull monotony: priest mumbling on and on, with the black-robed minions stood rigidly at the end of each pew adding just a bite of anxiety, enough to keep everyone on edge, glancing nervously around.

The day – besides the visit from the minions and the sighting of the 'criminal' – had been pretty much uneventful, as it always was. As we all made our way home from church, the sun just beginning to set, I found myself hanging back. Dragging my feet and kicking up dust, I stuck to the street's edge in order to stay in the shade. Suddenly, something glinting in the sand caught my eye. I glanced around to make sure I wasn't being observed before quickly kneeling and picking the object. Upon closer examination, I saw it was a small, slim metal tool with a plastic black handle. I recognized it immediately. A screwdriver.

I turned it over in my hands, puzzled. Tools like this were used for wiring the speakers, the televisions. Yet there had been no workmen repairing them today. It had obviously been dropped recently, as it wasn't buried in the sand and showed no signs of wear. So whose could it be?

It was then that I noticed the symbol engraved in the handle.

The exact same star symbol that had been on the back of The Mystic's jacket. A chill pricked at my spine. It belonged to him, or whoever he was working with, that much was evident. What the hell were they doing?

Anxious and now wary, I dropped the screwdriver into my pocket, then jogged to catch up with my family.

~*~

_"Vic, you fucking idiot!" Danny hissed angrily as he finished checking through his bag, "You dropped the fucking screwdriver!"_

_"Danny, chill," Vic removed his sunglasses and bandanna, shaking out his shoulder-length hair as he joined Danny in the shadows, obscured from the view of the street, "It's tiny. No one's gonna find it. Besides, we can't go back and look for it. They're about to start night patrol. Speaking of which," He glanced at the stolen watch he wore on his tanned wrist, "We really oughtta get back to Mike, so we can get the hell out of here."_

_Danny made a frustrated sound. He always found Vic far too chilled out. Uncaring about little details or slip-ups. Not bothering to pause and tie up loose ends._

_Attitudes like that got you killed. Danny knew. He'd seen it happen years ago._

_But Vic wasn't a bad guy, and he was smart, so Danny bit back his worries and sighed, "Yeah. We should get back."_

_They stayed close to the wall, keeping to the shadows, as they crept through alleys. After Jinxx nearly got caught the other day, they had been forced to become even more cautious. At every tiny sound, Danny flinched, paranoid that a minion had found them._

_And dressed like they were, they couldn't exactly pretend to be citizens. They were head to toe in black; scarves, hats, bandannas obscuring their faces, protecting their identities. Danny was covered in tattoos, and Vic's nose ring glinted in the sunset. Whereas all the city people had identical black hair – Danny suspected that F.E.A.R. meddled with the DNA of all the unborn babies – Vic had glossy, chocolate-coloured waves, and Danny with his dark blonde mop wasn't exactly ordinary looking. Straight away, people would know they were different._

_Mike, Vic's gangly younger brother, was waiting on the outskirts for them.  After nodding a greeting to each other, they began the run out into the desert. Danny knew that a little way away, behind a sand dune, was the Jeep used for driving in and out of the city._

_"How'd it go?" Mike enquired once they'd made the twenty-or-so-metre dash to the dune where they wouldn't be seen._

_Danny grinned a little despite his fatigue, grumpiness and how badly he wanted a cigarette, "It went pretty good. We covered about a quarter, and Ashley and Kier did another quarter. We should be done by tomorrow."_

_"Great!" Mike grinned happily at them. Then, "Should we wait up for them?"_

_"Nah, they finished hours ago." Vic looked pointedly at Danny._

_“Hey, I can't help being lazy. It's genetic.”_

_As they drove, Danny looked out across the barren desert. The wind that rushed past pulled his hair away from his face, and sent tiny grains of sand ricocheting off his sunglasses. He still couldn't get over the sheer craziness of Andy's plan. It was such a bold move... Danny was concerned and thought maybe they should move in slowly, but agreed that the plot, despite the risk it entailed, was a good one._

_He knew a lot of the pressure was on him, as the 'computer guy'. If he slipped up... well, he didn't want to think about what would happen if he did._

Stay cool _, he reminded himself,_ You're Danny Worsnop. You don't screw up. Ever.

~*~

Eleven o'clock that night found me in the windowseat in my bedroom; I gazed up at the full moon through the glass. I was unable to sleep, too busy thinking about the events of today. Turning over the screwdriver in my hands restlessly, I watched how the moonlight glinted silvery off its metal surface.

The sensible side of my mind was telling me that the screwdriver meant nothing. Just something the guy had dropped, whatever he was doing. No rebellion, nothing. Telling me to stay calm, be rational. What kind of rebellion would involve wiring up F.E.A.R.'s speakers for them?

The other side thought that all of these strange signs were connected. That something was changing.

The word _uprising_ ran through my mind, but I knew I couldn't get my hopes up. It could very easily mean nothing, and I hated being disappointed.

I placed the screwdriver back down on the sill and resumed looking up at the stars. That was the only part I really liked about living here. I always stayed up until the early hours of the morning, looking up at the night sky, glittering with thousands of stars. I glanced over at Ollie's bed. He was curled up in a ball, messy hair obscuring his face from view. Muffled snoring drifted across the room, and I knew I was the only one awake.

Despite the slightly open window, letting cool night breeze in, the heat was still stifling – the air conditioning must've broken again. I decided to get myself a glass of water from the kitchen. Creeping past Oliver's sleeping form, and out of the door, I noted light spilling from the slightly ajar door of my parents' room. I could hear snatches of their voices, talking in low and worried tones. I wasn't too concerned until I overheard my name. Then I paused to listen.

"... but you know Mallory's always had her funny ideas about how things work around here," I heard my mother mutter, "What if word gets out about these... these...," She struggled for the right word, "Outlaws, and she tries to rebel?" Her voice shook nervously.

"They refer to themselves as 'The Wild Ones'," My father supplied. Then, "And Mallory's too sensible to do such a thing. F.E.A.R. have told us that they are very dangerous.”

“And you believe that?”

“I don't know, Anna; all I'm saying is that we don't know what their intentions are. F.E.A.R. are hoping to keep a lid on things, though."

"So they've caught the one that was spotted yesterday?" Her tone was pointed.

"Well... no, but--"

"Exactly. Things are changing. I can feel it. I just hope we can do the right thing. I want to make sure our children are safe."

"Of course they are," My father soothed her with his gentle voice, "F.E.A.R. will take care of things,” he sighed, almost bitterly, and added, “They always do."

"But...," My mother's voice was still anxious, "If things get... strange, what are we going to tell them?"

He sighed, "I don't know, Anna. We'll think of something. It'll be okay, you'll see,” His words rang hollow, “Now come on, let's sleep. It's getting late."

There was a rustling of fabric, then a quiet click as the light went out, and I was left standing in darkness. The reckless side of my mind was gleeful. I had been right! There were rebels. Even F.E.A.R. had confirmed it. Working for them, my father was bound to know more inside information than anyone else. I found myself grinning stupidly, excitedly. Even my mother had said it. _Things are changing_.

Remembering my water, I went to the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap, my mind still on the outlaws. _The Wild Ones_. Knowing that my parents wouldn't tell me anything, I'd have to sate my own curiosity; I'd have to figure things out on my own. Get an idea of who they were, what they were like. My father had said that they were dangerous, but F.E.A.R. would tell citizens that to stop them from trusting the outlaws. The more clueless we were, the better they could control us. Like sheep.

I went back to my room quietly and looked out of the window again; except this time I wasn't stargazing, but searching the dark street corners hopefully for any signs of rebels. There was no movement. I sighed, mildly disappointed, then went and climbed into bed. Despite my excitement at discovering the outlaws weren't just a figment of my overactive imagination, I couldn't stop myself from speculating at what they were planning, and almost wanting to be a part of it. 


	3. Chapter 3

It had been just over a week since the day that the rebel had been spotted and I had found the screwdriver. Nothing more had happened, and boredom was driving me insane. The outlaws had been silent for days, with no signs of them anywhere – no matter how hard I looked. Maybe they were being more careful now, after being seen.

They had faded almost completely to the back of my mind as I sat on my window seat, completing the equations I had been given as homework. My hair was tied up, and the feel of the sun through the window warmed my neck pleasantly. It was a Saturday morning so my father was in work, and my mother had gone to get groceries, taking Oliver with her. So I had time to myself. It was nice.

The most relaxed I'd been for a while, I sighed contentedly and closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall as I basked in warm sunlight. My eyes flickered open lazily and watched dust motes spin through the air, illuminated in the sunlight. I allowed my gaze to wander aimlessly, edges softened by my half-closed eyes. I looked up at the vivid blue sky, and my eyes drifted down to the street.

Suddenly I was wide awake, heart jumping in my chest. I sat up hurriedly from my slumped position to get a better look at the figure on the other side of the street, who was most definitely not ordinary.

I peered out of my dusty window at the mysterious guy. He was unlike anyone I'd ever seen before. Leaning casually against the wall of the building opposite and kicking up dust in a bored fashion, he seemed to blend into the shadows, yet I couldn't take my eyes off him.

He was dressed entirely in black: tight black pants, sturdy boots, a leather jacket with the sleeves pushed up to reveal muscular forearms. There was a black scarf draped around his neck, and a cowboy hat on his head; the shadow it cast shielded his face from view. Long, straight black hair flowed out from underneath the brim. His skin was tanned and weathered, decorated with shocking, colourful pictures. _Tattoos?_ My mind raced. I was sure I'd read something about body art somewhere in one of my old books. Of course, it was forbidden here in the city. The word 'OUTLAW' was clearly visible across his bare stomach.

My heart thumped anxiously. He was a Wild One. No doubt about it. No one living here could ever dress so flamboyantly, so conspicuously, and that tattoo was basically a label confirming it. Some part of my mind wondered how he could wear so many layers of clothing – _black_ clothing – in this heat and not pass out.

Suddenly, his face turned away from the point in the distance he had been intently fixed on, and faced mine. I couldn't see his eyes, but knew he had seen me staring. His lips stretched into a sort of mocking smile, never taking his gaze off me. My heartbeat stuttered, despite there being a whole street and a pane of glass between us. Just then, he tilted his head up, enabling me to see him.

Dark eyes locked with mine. They sparkled with mischief. He slowly brought his index finger to his lips and mouthed, ' _shhhh_ '.

I could do nothing but give a slight nod, dumbfounded. He winked, then resumed staring down the street as he had been doing before.

Mystery Guy stood like that for a few minutes, not looking at me again. My mind had just started to wander when suddenly I saw his posture stiffen, straighten up. Another black-clad figure appeared hurriedly from the direction he had been staring to. This one was shorter, with a face masked by large, dark sunglasses and a hood pulled over his head. A shock of alarmingly orange-red hair swept across his forehead. The new figure handed something to Mystery Guy, but they were so fast that it was a blur and I couldn't see what the object was. Then, red-hair guy glanced back over his shoulder, and saying something to his companion, disappeared into the gloominess of a nearby alley.

The first guy pulled his hat down over his face again, and started after his friend, but paused to blow me a kiss, still smirking. Then, he was gone too.

~*~

_Kier glanced back at Ashley, who had hesitated at the mouth of the alley._

_"Come on!" Kier whisper-urged him, and the other man turned and caught up with a few long strides._

_"What was that about?"_

_Ashley merely grinned, flicking his shiny hair out of his eyes, "Oh, just making friends."_

_"Someone saw you? Ash, you idiot! That's the last thing we need." Kier glared. Ashley could be so careless sometimes._

_"Relax," Ash told him as they paused at the street corner, making sure it was empty before dashing into the next alley, "She didn't look like the type who'd go running to F.E.A.R."_

She. _Kier resisted the urge to roll his eyes._ Of course Ashley would show off in front of a girl. _"It was still stupid," He scolded Ash in a hushed voice as they carefully made their way through the slums, "I told you to stay hidden; I come back and find you lounging on the street corner! Jinxx is already in enough shit, we don't need you getting your face on a poster too!"_

_"Okay. Sorry." He was still smirking, not sounding or looking the least bit apologetic._

_Kier rolled his eyes, knowing that no amount of lecturing would get through to Ashley. He was reckless and cocky, but that probably mostly came from being good at his job. With anyone else, the wiring of the speakers would've taken a week, but with Ashley it took barely two days._

_They had been delayed though, waiting for the drama about Jinxx to die down and make sure people forgot before continuing the job. And at long last, they were done. Kier's shoulders ached from holding Ashley's weight as he reached the speakers that were higher up._

_He had no idea what the council were planning – well, they insisted that they weren't a council, but private meetings for the five of them? Matching jackets? The way everyone listened to them? Definitely the big guys of the place. All he knew about their plan was that it heavily involved technology – the fact that they had to re-wire every bloody speaker in the city and find that weird black device for Danny made that pretty obvious – and knowing Andy, it wasn't going to be small-scale. He aimed to shock, make an impact._

_Following Ashley out into the dry, baking hot desert, Kier bit his lip anxiously as he thought about it, his piercing clicking against his teeth. He was just hoping that Andy's plan wasn't_ too _extreme._

_Ashley glanced over at Kier, who chewed on his lower lip, his colourful fringe falling over his eyes, looking worried and thoughtful. He almost rolled his eyes. Typical of Kier to fret about everything. Ashley wasn't stupid – he wouldn't have gotten caught._

_Or maybe he was worrying about their plot. It was such a big step forwards, that even Ashley had been concerned at first. But Andy was adamant, and you don't argue with Andy. After a while, Ashley had seen the sheer genius of it, and now all he wanted to do was get back to their base so the plan could commence as quickly as possible. But it was a hard sprint out to the Jeep's hiding spot, and then a pretty long drive to where they had hidden their home._

_They eventually reached the car – Kier got in the driver's side because Ashley couldn't drive stick shift. Instead he sat fidgeting in the passenger seat. He missed his motorbike, missed its gleaming black body, missed gripping the handles and feeling the roar of the powerful engine underneath him. He missed the wind blowing in his face as he hurtled along the roads. Of course, he hardly ever got the chance to use it, now. It sat in one of the storerooms, silent and gathering dust. The engine was too loud to be used anywhere near the city, but Ashley comforted himself with the thought that once things began changing, he'd be free to ride it all he wanted._

_The drive felt longer than usual today, but maybe that was because Ashley was extra impatient to get this weird device to Danny. He wasn't sure what it would do, only that once they had it they'd be ready to put everything into action._

_Finally, they reached their base, and after hiding the Jeep, entered and made their way hurriedly down the near-empty corridor. The only sounds were their footsteps against the stone floor, echoing around them; there was muffled chatter coming from the main hall, and faint violin melodies echoed off the walls as Jinxx practised in his room. They eventually got to Danny's computer lab, the whole room lit by the glow of the screen Danny sat in front of. Yet another cigarette was between his lips and there was an overflowing ashtray at his elbow. Ash didn't think it was possible for one person to smoke so much; he couldn't believe Danny hadn't run out of tobacco yet. But then again, he and Andy were the only people Ash knew who smoked._

_Danny was typing something complicated looking, while Laurence, who helped him out in the lab, was crouched on the floor, plugging wires into bits of machinery._

_When he heard their entrance, Danny swivelled around in his wheeled chair, fingers steeped underneath his bearded chin. He grinned mock-evilly and put on a heavy accent, “Velcome to my lair.” They politely ignored how Laurence and Kier immediately embraced, kissing and whispering softly to each other._

_"You're done already?" Danny looked almost surprised as he became serious again, "I didn't expect you two to be back so fucking early. Anyway, do you have it?"_

_Ashley grinned confidently, "What kind of question is that? They didn’t send out the best for nothing." He brought the item out of his bag with a flourish, and held it up for Danny, who gave a little cheer.  Snatching it up, he began to plug it into various wires._

_"I just finished editing," Danny told them excitedly, referring to the plan, "The only thing we have to do now is get into their systems," He glanced over his shoulder at his apprentice, "You. Go and get Andy for me."_

_Laurence left with Kier trailing behind him, the two holding hands. A few minutes later, they returned with not only Andy, but Jake, Jinxx, CC, Vic, Mike, Kellin, Austin, Alan, Ronnie, Alice, Hayley, Ben, Lea and Suki. Others that Danny didn't know the names of were crowded behind them, spilling out into the corridor._

_Danny glared at them, but he was too wired to be anything except mildly irritated, "I said_ Andy _, not the whole fucking legion."_

_They merely grinned, acknowledging Danny's famous grumpiness, before all crowding around the monitor. Andy leaned over Danny's shoulder, eyes on the screen._

_"So, Andy, when is this plan gonna–"_

_"Now." His low voice was focused yet excited, the word sounding through the room like a gunshot. The crowd began to murmur in anticipation._

_Danny was a little taken aback, "Don't you think we should wait a few days?"_

_Andy shook his head, a glimmer of a smile on his face, "I want to strike as soon as possible, so we can move onto the next phase. Let's use the element of surprise while we still have it."_

_"Okay, then," Danny was even more unnerved now; he couldn't stop thinking_ too soon, too soon _. But it was a pretty good time of day. There would be no church services, so everyone would either be in work or at home. It was early afternoon, so there was no chance of anyone being asleep and missing it._

_Danny glanced up at Andy, whose expression was steely and determined. Sometimes, he almost frightened Danny with his intensity. How much he talked of rebellion, of freeing the city, and 'setting the world on fire' as Andy put it. How quickly he could go from softly spoken and thoughtful, to hard-as-nails rebel leader, hell bent on an uprising._

_He looked back at Danny then, bright eyes unflinching, and Danny knew he'd just been given an order by The Prophet, leader of The Wild Ones, and not his old friend Andy Biersack._

_"Right. Let's do this." Danny couldn't help but grin idiotically to himself as he leaned over the keyboard, ready to do what he did best._

_Andy watched as he typed furiously. The screen was doing something weird and showing tiny, alien text, but Danny seemed to understand it perfectly well. Andy usually kept a calm persona, but today his heart was thrumming eagerly in his chest. He had been awaiting this moment for months now, and it felt amazing to finally set things off._

_A few minutes passed in silence. Beads of sweat began to form on Danny's forehead. Suddenly, Danny and Laurence (who was leaning over Danny's shoulder, also seeming to understand the writing on the screen perfectly) gave a loud cheer, startling everyone._

_"We're in!" Danny bellowed, enthusiastically clapping Laurence on the back as the crowd chattered and cheered. Andy was sure that the thump was meant to be congratulatory, but he saw Laurence wince in pain._

_Danny continued smugly, "I don't think they've noticed that I'm in their systems yet, but we should hurry. Once they do notice, it's gonna be a shitstorm. I'm gonna have a hard time staying there once they find me, but I'm sure I can do it. Well, more like ninety-six percent sure. Anyway," Clearing his throat, he looked up for Andy's approval. His finger hovered over a button, "Shall we?"_

_Andy held up his index finger, signalling to wait a second. He clambered precariously onto a part of the table that wasn't covered in wires, and turned to face the crowd that filled the room and spilled out into the passageway._

_Danny's lab was at the end of the long, dim corridor, but Andy could see that the crowd stretched out pretty far back, and he was almost certain that nearly every one of the rebels had packed themselves into the corridor, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of their first victory over F.E.A.R.; there wasn't a huge amount of people living in their camp, maybe fifty or sixty. But Andy was confident that once their cause was known to the citizens of the city, their numbers would swell._

_Andy raised his arms so they stretched out horizontally on either side of him, palms facing outwards. The crowd whooped delightedly in response, and with every eye fixed on him, his heartbeat in his ears and adrenaline pulsing through his veins, Andy felt alive._

_"Legion!" He roared out to them as they cheered back, "Wild Ones! Our time is now! Tonight," he paused to suck in a deep breath before hollering at the buzzing crowd, "Tonight, we make history!"_

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Ever had the feeling that despite it being a perfectly ordinary day, that something big – like, life-changing big – is going to happen? You don't know what it is, but you just _know._

That sensation was lodged in my stomach like a brick today. I slumped on the couch, with Oliver and my mother next to me. Ollie was dozing and my mother was absorbed in sewing a hole in a shirt. My father was out in the hallway, talking on the telephone in a low, hushed voice. Something to do with work. I was pretending to study my textbook, but was actually thinking back to the rebel I saw this morning. My heart raced irrationally as I did, like F.E.A.R. could know what I was thinking.

I hadn't told anyone what I'd seen; I wasn't that stupid, and it thrilled me to have my own huge secret. That way, I could play at being part of it all. Some part of me had briefly wondered whether the rebel had wanted to be noticed – after all, he had been lounging conspicuously in broad daylight – but then decided that if he had wanted to be seen, he probably would've done something more obvious than skulk in the shadows of an empty street.

Without warning, the television flickered to life, and began to play the familiar violin music that meant a broadcast. I frowned as I exchanged a confused look with my mother. They weren't usually this early; maybe F.E.A.R. had something pressingly important to announce. I wondered if it was about the outlaws.

Nevertheless, we shook Oliver awake as my father re-entered the room, and sat down with us as we all watched the screen obligingly to hear what F.E.A.R. had to say to the population of the city today. The familiar symbol appeared, and the voice was halfway through its opening word when the image on the screen flickered and changed. The television was pitch black. I saw my parents look at each other in alarm, and then we all looked at what was now showing.

The screen lightened a little: it revealed a small dark room. In front of the camera, in the centre of the room, stood a figure, motionless and silent. It was so dark that all I could see was this figure's outline and nothing else except blackness. A feeling of anticipation materialized within me as quiet, slightly eerie music rose gradually. Something wasn't right. Yet I was unable to tear my eyes away from the image.

The figure spoke suddenly, its voice deep, smooth and distinctly male, _"The kingdom of God is inside you, and all around you. Not in a mansion of wood and stone. Split a piece of wood, and God is there. Lift a stone, and you will find God."_

This was most definitely not a F.E.A.R. broadcast.

My father reacted immediately, "Oliver, Mallory; go to your room. Now."

Of course, we stayed put, too absorbed in what was happening. He didn't say anything more – he too was staring fixedly at the man on the screen.

The room began to slowly grow lighter, until I could see five figures, all male; all dressed in black, with dark hair and tattooed skin. _The rebels!_ Involuntarily, a gasp rushed out of my throat.

They wore identical strange, shiny black masks on the upper halves of their faces, with curved horns and noses, arched eyebrows and narrow slits for the eyes. They looked like demons, the very image of sin. I could only imagine the reaction they were provoking across the city.

The front one, the one who had spoken, held a black microphone in one hand, while three of them that stood slightly behind him all wielded gleaming black objects I couldn't name; they looked like the distant cousins of a violin, but resembled it about as much as a shark resembles a goldfish.

I recognized the man I had seen this morning, and gaped. The 'OUTLAW' tattoo showed clearly across his muscled abdomen; his smirk was cocky underneath his mask as he grasped the neck of his instrument.

The fifth one sat at the back of the room, seated behind many drums, twirling wooden sticks restlessly between his fingers with impressive skill. I saw that the rebels’ star symbol was painted onto the front of one of the drums.

_Where did they get all this stuff?_ The objects were alien to me, yet I felt as though I'd seen them before somewhere. Whatever their purpose, F.E.A.R. must've banned them for some reason. Mystified and awed, I wondered as to how they'd gotten their hands on these forbidden items.

There was a pause. The background music swelled, then abruptly stopped. Then a moment of silence where the frontman's mouth stretched into a wicked grin, a silver ring in his lip catching the light as he did.

An explosion of sound hit our ears.

Frantic, loud notes layered thick, with some deeper instrument moving underneath and a fast, frenzied beat with crashing metal, all at once. This wasn't like any music any of us had ever heard.

All five figures never stopped moving: the three mens' fingers were blurs as their hands moved on the instruments; the drummer's arms moved wildly as he beat a frantic rhythm. The front man motioned and leaped wildly about. This was cut in with dramatic images of a whole crowd of black-clad, masked people, grinning, yelling, gesturing, pumping their fists into the air. Black paint was smeared across their faces; they were strange and terrifying.

Then, as the image switched back to the small room, the first guy looked right into the camera, a glint of sparkling blue iris glinting through the slits in his mask. He began singing. The lyrics appeared in bold, lettering at the bottom of the screen, and the words were the boldest and most controversial I'd ever laid eyes upon.

" _Here we go! Holding onto lies, holding onto ties that vanish. Cut the rope! And fall into the sky, the devil fills our minds with sadness_ ,"  A clear jab at F.E.A.R., " _The world's a gun, and I've been aiming all my life_!" He pointed two fingers to the side his head. The singer's voice was low, like the way he spoke, but rich and silky. I glanced over at my parents to see them gaping in outright awe, transfixed on the screen. Oliver wore a similar expression, but looked mostly confused and scared.

I was enthralled. Bar the same scratchy violin at the start of every announcement, music hadn't ever been allowed here – all part of F.E.A.R.'s mission to destroy all creativity and individuality. This music was new, bold, shocking – and I found myself liking it.

Images of masked rebels were now flashing across the television – they were depicted preparing for battle; painting black flags with the star symbol; smearing paint onto their faces and exposed skin, baring their teeth at the camera. They all wore those unnerving, demonic masks. For a brief second, I saw what my family were seeing; strange malicious creatures who barely resembled humans, out to destroy what they knew. _Why does no one see things the way I do?_ None of them knew what a good thing this rebellion could be, if one was actually on the horizon. In my peripheral vision, I saw Oliver shrink back into the couch slightly, yet completely absorbed in the bold images.

The screen went back to the five men who were playing the song, the singer punching the air as the chorus kicked in. " _Got something to live for, I know that I won't surrender! A warrior of youth!"_ The singer stepped forwards. It was like he stared directly at me. He jabbed his index finger forwards; I started, as though he was reaching right through the screen, " _I'm taking over, a shot to the new world order! I am bulletproof!"_

My mind whirled. _How did they manage to get into F.E.A.R.'s systems?_ But then the music was cut off as the image flickered back to the F.E.A.R. symbol. Just as quickly as it had changed, it jumped back to The Wild Ones. The broadcast carried on like this, music jumping strangely, the two battling; trying to get control of the screens, for several minutes, until the rebels emerged victorious. Now the camera focused on one of the instrument-wielding men, who began to play blindingly fast. " _Bulletproof!"_ the onscreen crowd chanted repeatedly.

“ _I am bulletproof!”_ The vocalist half-screamed, half-roared, blue eyes fierce and luminous through his mask as the music momentarily paused. I saw the drummer throw his drumstick high into the air, before catching it again and grinning.

My gaze broke away from the TV as the main part repeated to see how my family were reacting. Oliver’s eyes were round and huge; they flickered between the television and our parents, not sure if his innocent eyes were allowed to be seeing this act of defiance. My mother and father's faces were masks of alarm. Still they carried on watching, too shocked to move. The room was thick with tension, but it hardly touched me. A strange, wondrous feeling had begun to bloom in my chest. Bizarrely, I found myself identifying it as _hope._

There were just so _many_ of them. More rebels than I'd ever seen, probably more than my parents together had ever seen. Maybe even a whole army, and army of people who felt the same way that I did about things, but who weren’t afraid to stand up for their beliefs, weren’t afraid to defy the law. I couldn't believe they'd been undercover for so long.

We had been taught to hate and fear people who were different. Told that they were evil, not to be trusted. That individuality was wrong and creativity was a sin. But here they were, a whole legion of those outsiders, and they were prepared to fight. I felt a thrill at this. _No wonder F.E.A.R. are so concerned_. They had a good reason to be. These outlaws were the clearest threat anyone had ever laid eyes upon.

I realized that my lips were moving along with the song, but hurriedly stopped myself in case my parents saw. That certainly would not bode well.

Disappointment overwhelmed me as the song abruptly ended, on a poignant image of a dead rebel lying on cracked desert ground. I expected the television screen to go black and lifeless once more as it always did at the end of a broadcast, but it switched back to the five musicians as the sounds of the amplified guitars faded slowly. I leaned forwards eagerly, wanting to hear everything.

The camera closed in around the frontman, whose chest was rising and falling rapidly. His short raven hair clung damply to his forehead; his eyes were practically glowing with exuberance.

The man grinned widely, looking wild and dangerous as he ran his tongue over his teeth. Some burning, strange shock fizzed along my spine.

His deep voice was confident, _“We are the unholy! We are the bastard sons of your media culture! Our minds, eyes and bodies were born of your exclusion. An illusion you hide behind. You don’t love a god – You love your comforts!_

_“To you we are filth; we are dirty – so be it. We are dirty and unclean! A congregation of the unseen,”_ His hands clapped together in front of his chest, like a mockery of prayer, _“Together, we will set this world on fire! This is the new religion!”_ He inhaled deeply, raising slender arms, before roaring, right in the camera _“Amen!”_

Then, the screen went lifeless once more. We all sat in dead silence for a minute or so.

“Oh. My. _God._ ” My father groaned before putting his head in his hands. The gesture was weariness personified.

“Language!” My mother reprimanded, glancing anxiously at us. Using the Lord’s name in vain was seen as a minor criminal offence here. You could get fined for it. She rubbed his back, making soothing noises. Turning to us, her head jerked towards the door, signifying that we should leave the room. Oliver got up and scuttled away hurriedly. I shot my parents a last look as I made my way towards the door.

Just as the door closed behind me, I heard my mother asking, “It’s really happening, isn’t it? Oh, God. It’s started.”

~*~

_A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowded corridor as their broadcast ended. Only the ones nearer to the front of the masses had actually been able to see the film that Danny so cleverly edited, but the sound was loud enough for the whole legion to hear, booming from their stolen speakers in a way that made Andy’s head rattle._

_He walked out of the room, waving goodbye to his friends, before edging his way back through the corridor. The rebels parted to let him pass, and he smiled gratefully at those who congratulated him as he walked by. Cries of,_ ‘Oh my god, that was amazing!’ ‘We so owned them!’ _and_ ‘I was in it! Did you see me?!’ _rang_ _throughout the whole place. He turned down an empty passageway, making his way back to his room. The chants of_ ‘Black Veil Brides’ _– just one of the many names that the rebels went by – echoed off the walls behind him._

_Andy breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t doubted Danny’s skills, not for one moment, but had gotten the horrible gut feeling that they had underestimated F.E.A.R. and something was going to go horribly, horribly wrong. Luckily, that hadn’t been the case. The plan had worked spectacularly, apart from the interruptions during the second verse, but they had been anticipated and therefore quickly resolved._

_He pictured the families in the city sitting in their drab apartments, or standing transfixed in the streets after hearing the song on the rewired speakers. Each and every one of their faces would be gaping in shock, horror, fear, alarm, any number of emotions. He grinned at the thought._

_Eventually, he reached the entrance to his room. Here was the meeting room, where he and his four most trusted friends held their meetings, discussing everything from battle tactics to their rebels’ uniforms. They pretty much ran the place, making sure that everything was in order and everyone was happy. It was hard work, but Andy motivated himself and everyone else with thoughts of victory over F.E.A.R.'s evil._

_At the back of the meeting room, there was a door, which led to his bedroom. His parents had built this army, started this whole thing, so they had originally designed it for two people, meaning that the room was larger than others. Also, as the rebel leaders themselves at that time those years ago, only just planting the seeds of revolution when Andy was still small, they had set about making the meeting room and their bedchamber lavish and spacious._

_They hadn’t had a problem with it – they wanted everyone to know that they were the leaders – but Andy felt uncomfortable knowing that everyone else slept on single mattresses in small rooms side-by-side lining the corridors. He felt pompous, foolish. He had asked Jake, who mostly organized the rooms, whether there were any spare rooms that he could stay in, and they could use the large bedroom for something else, but Jake had only laughed and told him he was being stupid – there was no point in Andy using up one of the rooms they reserved for new rebels who might arrive, when he had a perfectly good room to himself._

_Opening his door, he flopped down onto his mattress, still smiling to himself and replaying the victory over and over in his head as he lit a cigarette. He took several deep drags, allowing the action to calm him down. The sharp, thick aroma of tobacco was soothing to him in its own way, but most of his friends hated the pungent scent. He'd known when he started smoking that the substance was addictive, but he figured that everyone needed a vice. Andy was just thankful they had it in abundance, and what they didn't have they could siphon from the city's black market._

_His mind instantly went back to the plan, though, thinking about when, where and how the next strike would happen. He couldn’t help it; he was restless when he wasn’t working. Friends would tell him to relax and ‘stop working so damn hard’, but he hated sitting around. Andy could never be satisfied until he had everything he wanted, everything he needed._

_Number one on the list – overthrowing F.E.A.R._

_And he would stop at nothing to get what he desired._

~*~

I was in church again after a long, slow day of school. I found myself glancing around warily, for some unknown reason. My instincts remained apprehensive.

They were coming. The rebels. I was anticipating it. It was only a matter of time. Especially after this mornings’ incident.

I had been walking to school this morning, in that state between sleep and wakefulness where wisps of thought formed, then floated away like bubbles before I was able to analyse them. The city was already waking up, and yet the street seemed more empty than usual. It was then that I turned the corner; what I saw made me, and several others, stop dead and stare.

On the large stone wall of the side of the church, in black and white paint, the rebels' star symbol had appeared. To make it all the more insulting to F.E.A.R., they had written the chorus of the song from the performance yesterday underneath it. People lingered,  murmuring and pointing at the graffiti. I overhead a nearby minion hissing furiously into its communication device. The minion’s voice was low, but I heard enough to know that these stars were daubed onto the walls of churches and buildings throughout the city. The minions who had also been looking in horror at the image then turned around and yelled at us all for stopping, so everyone hurriedly walked off, or got back to doing whatever they were doing. I continued my walk to school, heart thrumming excitedly like a hummingbirds' wings inside my chest.

The usually tedious journey to school was made far more interesting by the stars I spotted as I made my way past churches and buildings of importance. Each wall showed the same star symbol, but underneath each star, there had been written different phrases, things like, _"We are The Wild Ones! Our time is now!", "Look around you; where is your God?”,  “We are the fallen angels!", "This is the New Religion!",_ and, " _Black Veil Brides!"._ That last one made me stop and look more closely at the star –  after making sure there were no minions around. The shape formed _letters –_ B, V and another B, in a circle. Black Veil Brides – was that another name the rebels went by? The letters were mirrored so they formed a star. I gaped at the sheer genius of it. I stared up at the wall, my mouth stretching into a smile.

Realizing with horror that I was late for school – tardiness was punished severely – I rounded the corner hastily to see a crowd of kids my age coming the opposite way.

A nearby minion moved in my direction. I flinched as its mask leered down at me. For one insane moment, my stomach lurched and I wondered if I was being arrested, but all it said was, “School is cancelled today. You may make your way back home.”

“What's going on?” I asked on impulse.

The hollows where its eyes would've usually been stared at me for a beat, “Let me rephrase: Go home. Unless you'd like to pay the F.E.A.R. building a visit.”

I didn't need to be told twice. On my way back, I saw several workers scrubbing at the walls, minions overlooking them. The last traces of black and white paint, mixed with soapy water, slithered down the wall to disappear into the sand.

So after that happening, I had known that the uprising was official. The rebels had made themselves known to everyone, daring us to fight back. No doubt, F.E.A.R. had already begun training up new soldiers and planning tactics. With their famed ruthlessness, they'd be prepared to kill, I knew.

“Amen.” The whole church mumbled in response to the sermon, bringing me back to the situation at hand. I lifted my head a little to see the priest better.

A shadow at the back of the church caught my eye. It was out of place; something was there that wasn't usually. It wouldn't have bothered me much, except I was so on edge that anything strange instantly captured my full attention. I squinted a little to get a better look at it.

It _moved._ Ever so slightly, but it was still moving. I realised it was a person. I would've dismissed it as a minion, or perhaps another priest, but the minions were absent from church today; they had their hands full scouring the city for rebels, scrubbing paint from walls and barking orders to anyone who got in their way. Furthermore, the priests were never usually lurking in the shadows, but standing next to the candelabras wearing haughty expressions, dressed in their fine white robes.

I watched as the silhouette, still in the shadows, almost entirely obscured from my view, began to move forwards. It was so subtle that no-one else would've noticed it unless they were looking as closely as I was. A hasty glance around at everyone confirmed that they weren't.

The figure stayed low, out of the light, creeping forwards slowly, ever so slowly, until they disappeared entirely behind the carved altar that the priest stood at. _What the hell is going on?,_ I thought to myself, eyes straining anxiously to find the figure again. Just then, a tall guy jumped suddenly up behind the priest. Several people screamed. Before the reverend could turn around, the guy pinned his arms behind his back with one hand, and held a knife to his throat with the other. His face leered over the terrified man's shoulder, grinning at us. The upper half of his face was covered with a black mask. The rebels were here.

Suddenly, the door at the back of the church burst open. Minions poured in, wielding their staffs. They spotted the rebel and yelled, charging down the aisle at him. People were panicking, screaming and trying to leave the building, but at that moment a tremendous shattering sound filled the air. I looked around to see that all of the stained-glass windows had been smashed inwards, and now black-clad outlaws were clambering through, holding various weapons, faces painted black. Immediately, minions and rebels ran to each other, and began fighting.

" _Mallory!",_ I heard my mother's voice say. She was now at the back of the church, near the door, with Oliver and my father. There was smashed glass and screaming children everywhere. Numerous fires had started due to candlesticks falling over, or the small grenades that minions kept on their belts in case of emergencies. It was utter chaos. Ollie was crying and shaking, clinging to her like a limpet. She beckoned frantically to me. I glanced back, and saw that the door behind the altar would be easier to reach. I turned back to my mother, and shook my head, gesturing that I would take the other door and met them outside. Before they could object, I turned and ran.

Just as I got to the door, I collided painfully with someone, "Oooof!" I heard him gasp, then, "Wait, I know you!"

I looked up. It was the rebel I had seen on the street, the one with the 'OUTLAW' tattoo. He grinned down at me. Up close, he was very good-looking, with smooth, tanned skin stretched over high cheekbones. Almond-shaped eyes blinked at me.

"Uh. yeah." _Wow, brilliant, Mal. Way to make an impression._ I glanced at the door, knowing I really ought to leave, but not wanting to miss the opportunity to talk to one of the Wild Ones.

"What's your name?"

"Mallory. Yours?" I asked boldly.

He chuckled, "The Deviant." I frowned; obviously that wasn't his real name. It was probably his title, like The Mystic was probably a title too.

The Deviant smiled, "So, how's this taste of revolution for you, sweetheart?" He was mocking me, taking me for a scared little girl. I stood up straighter and glared at him as a surge of indignation flooded through me. Then I shrugged, acting unimpressed, “I was expecting something more big-scale."

He raised a dark eyebrow, chuckling again, "Oh, that so?" He leaned against the wall, his expression entertained, as though there wasn't a huge fight going on behind us.

"It is." I couldn't help myself; I smiled back. I knew that we were most likely being watched, and any minute now–

Glancing backwards, I saw a minion behind us. It had its arm raised above its head, holding a grenade. Aiming our way.

"Oh no,” I hissed, "Duck!"

"What?" The Deviant frowned, confused, but there was no time for explanations so I dived on top of him, pushing him backwards and tackling him to the ground so we wouldn't get hit by the explosion. We skidded across the wooden floor. He gave a muffled protest; my elbow was jabbing his face, but then the bomb hit the wall where he had been standing. He gaped, then looked back at me, nodding his approval. I couldn't help but feel a sort of smug pride – I'd just saved this guy's life.

"We're retreating," He murmured, eyes on the fight as we clambered to our feet. Then, back to being casual again, he said, "Nice save, by the way, kid.”

_Kid? Gee, thanks._ I shrugged, “Had to, otherwise we'd be a pile of ashes right about now."

"C'mon," He told me, "The fight's ending. We should make ourselves scarce."

The way he was talking to me was strange, "We?" I enquired as I followed out of the door, into the alleyway behind the church. Several rebels were already out there, panting and wiping sweat from their foreheads, or inspecting battle injuries. They turned to stare at me and The Deviant. Their masks obscured their expressions, but they didn't look like they were feeling particularly friendly.

"Well, we're looking for recruits, and you seem pretty sharp. I got the feeling that you didn't like those F.E.A.R. bastards from the fact that no news got out about our encounter before," He winked, while I gasped at the use of the curse word. I hadn't heard anyone bold enough to say anything like that before, "Anyway. You interested?"

It took me a moment to figure out what he was asking. Did I want to be one of them? My heart leaped. It was an incredible opportunity; here I was, being outright asked to join their cause. But...my family...

"I don't know..." I hesitated. My mind raced.

"Well, kid, it's now or never, so you might wanna make a decision real quick." He pressured,  looking at me intently.

"Mallory!" My mother cried from behind me.

I turned around. My family were standing at the mouth of the alley, watching me with horrified expressions as terrified and confused citizens ran past. Ollie was sobbing, scared witless; my mother was staring at me with worry in her eyes, a shallow cut on her cheek where a piece of flying glass had hit her; my father's expression was mostly unreadable, but he looked angry as he glanced between The Deviant and I.

" _Mallory_ ," She said again, "What are you _doing?"_

"I..." My mouth felt dry. They looked so scared, so helpless. I couldn't leave them. I turned back to The Deviant, "I can't. I'm sorry. My family..."

He shrugged, "Hey. I get it. No biggie," The shouts from the church got louder, as more rebels began to pour out of the back door, "Shit. Might wanna get outta here, kid. Wouldn't do ya good if they caught you talking to a criminal like myself," He winked again, then gave a wave with a leather glove clad hand, and called as I started to walk away, "See ya around, kid." Then he was running off with the rest of the rebels.

I found myself watching them leave with a sort of ache in my chest.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The four of us walked back to the house in tense silence. My family walked ahead of me a little, eager to get home and escape the chaos. Or perhaps they didn't want to be seen with me. I scanned the area. Nowhere near our area besides the church seemed affected, though I could see another plume of smoke rising in the distance. People were all out on the streets,  most looking lost and afraid. Some were running over to the church to help citizens who had gotten in the way of the fighting, or to put fires out before the whole church burnt to the ground. Minions were everywhere, grabbing anyone who looked suspicious or who they thought might be a rebel in disguise.

The speakers in the street unexpectedly crackled to life. Clearly F.E.A.R. had regained control of the systems, as the violin music of an announcement filled the air. People stopped in the middle of the street to listen.

" _We expect a battle for humanity is about to begin,_ " The smooth male voice spoke.

_A battle? Wow, really?,_ I thought sarcastically, but continued to listen closely.

" _Within each uprising, a vague sense of safety will ignite in you, and an unseen, shadowy slither of doubt towards those who protect and defend you. Let the thoughts slip away, and remain calm. Stay close to F.E.A.R. Only_ we _can protect_." The broadcast ended abruptly, and people continued to walk.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. F.E.A.R. styling themselves as our brave and heroic protectors was getting old, and yet no one seemed to object. For now, though, I decided,  I'd stay with in the middle; not joining any army or side of things, but look after my family. I'd stay where I was – for now. That was what I had decided as we walked the rest of the way home.

We entered our small apartment. Ollie went off to our room to do his homework, like he always did after church, but he was still shaking uncontrollably. My mother, knowing he'd calm down by himself, crossed the room and got our first-aid kit off the shelf to tend to the cut on her cheek. I was about to follow Ollie, when I felt my father's hand on my shoulder, "Not so fast, Mallory," He said quietly, voice filled with quiet anger, "We need to talk."

I squirmed, knowing it was going to be about my rebel encounter, and followed him back out into the hall, where we wouldn't be overheard by Oliver or my mother.

"Yes, Dad?" I asked quietly after a few seconds of silence. _Let's hear it._

He sighed, "Look, Mallory, I know you've always had your ideas about the way things work around here. I know that you don't follow the rules as closely as the rest of us. We all saw you talking to that criminal today. Don't you realize how _dangerous_ that was? Who knows what his intentions may have been? You could've been hurt, or killed – or if you were spotted by a minion, arrested!

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes or argue. _Here we go_.

"I've been tolerant of your behaviour up to this point, but that was the final straw. You're not to have any more contact with the rebels, do you understand? I don't know what goes on in that head of yours, but you need to have a good, long think about things, and decide what your priorities are. If F.E.A.R. somehow finds out about you, you are instantly seen as a threat, Mal. They view you as a criminal. Even if you haven't done anything. You'll be arrested, hurt, tortured for information if they decide you're guilty. As my daughter, I would hate that to happen to you. But this can go on no longer.

"By behaving in this strange way, not only are you putting yourself in immense danger, you are putting us, your family, in that danger too. Your mother and I have been discussing this, and we think it's time for things to change. Think about Oliver. He doesn't deserve to be dragged into this mess – just look at how terrified he was today. I can't have you and your rebellious thoughts around him if he is to grow up safely." His voice was quiet throughout the whole of this speech, calm. He rarely got truly angry.

"So what?" I asked, "You're saying you want me to leave?"

He gave another long, weary sigh, "No, Mal. Don't be absurd. I'm asking you to think. Think about things. I know you don't like F.E.A.R., and they are harsh leaders, but really, they're good. They protect us from harm. Keep us safe."

_They also brainwash us into believing that while they torture innocent people in the dungeons for having their own views_ , I thought darkly, but said nothing as he continued.

"The Wild Ones...Mallory, they're dangerous. You may view them as freedom now, but as you get older you'll see that it won't work. It never does. F.E.A.R. will capture them, wipe out these menacing creatures, and put a stop to this madness. Life will go on as normal.

"So I'm giving you an ultimatum. Change your views, or at least hide them more carefully. It's the right thing to do." He ran his hands through his greying hair.

There was a pause. "Okay, so a deal always has two sides," I said, a little more boldly now, "What happens if I don't do anything?"

His eyes were sad, "I don't want F.E.A.R. finding out, or harming you or any of my family. So I'll have no choice but to send you away. I'm sorry, Mal; I love you dearly, but my family's safety is my topmost priority, you understand."

I was quiet for a very long time as he stared at me down his hooked nose. I had always thought that my family would protect me, until I was given my own house and a job when I turned 18, just like every other teenager. I thought that they'd always be there and look after me. But they didn't want me anymore. And now my Dad was staring at me with a cold finality in his eyes, like I was almost a stranger, and it hurt more than I wanted it to. More than it should. A whole mixture of strong feelings flooded through me. Hurt, relief, betrayal, anger, sadness; a mix of the positive and negative. I was upset about how ashamed they were of me when I'd hardly done anything, but I was relieved because it meant they – well, my Dad at least – had already accepted it if I were to leave. It wouldn't be as hard for them then. I felt a twinge of annoyance at that. If only I had known earlier when The Deviant was asking me to join them...

I sighed quietly, dismissing the selfish thought, "Where would you send me?"

"I...I don't know. Maybe Mrs. Roberts...”

Mrs. Roberts was a family friend, nearing eighty and widowed, the stuffiest and most pious woman you could hope to meet. _I'd rather poke pins in my eyes,_ “That's bull and you know it – I couldn't stay in the city. People would ask why I'm not with my parents. F.E.A.R. would question us.”

His mouth became a flat line, “You'd have to leave this place. I don't know. The rebels live in the desert. Join them, Mal."

So he really didn't care, then. I glared.

"But you said all of the rebels will be wiped out. You said they were bad people." I pointed out.

He shrugged, and then lowered his voice to a whisper, like he was scared F.E.A.R. would hear him otherwise, "Maybe. Maybe not. But they'll die fighting for their freedom. If they do die, that is...” he trailed off like there was something he wasn't saying, “That can't be all bad. I'm really sorry about this, Mal." I wasn't sure if he genuinely believed this statement, or was just saying it to convince me to leave. I didn't know if he actually cared or if he just wanted to wash his hands of me. Whether he still loved me or not. The mixed messages were tiring and confusing.

I shrugged, feigning a cold indifference as I turned away, "Forget it. I have. I'll consider your proposition." The words were weirdly stiff and formal.

"Okay." His voice was faint.

I sighed, crossing the hall and into my room, where Oliver was lying on his bed, sound asleep, drained from today's events. I flopped onto mine, feeling strange and lifeless and empty as I waited for tears that didn't come.

~*~

_For the few hours after the warriors had returned from the city, Austin hadn't sat down once._

_The small hospital wing of the Wild Ones' base camp was crowded with injured rebels, and Austin was rushing from person to person as quickly as he could, bandaging limbs, suturing cuts, removing shards of glass from skin with tweezers, barely even pausing for breath. But he didn't mind. He enjoyed his job. He loved the feeling of accomplishment, of knowing that you've some something for someone. Maybe even saved their life. Austin's father had been a doctor before him, and had taught him everything he knew before passing away._

_Austin wasn't a warrior by any means – of course, he still received the same basic self-defence training that all of them did, but from his lack of muscle and his gentle manner it was obvious he wasn't a fighter – in fact, Austin was a pacifist, which was why he chose to heal rather than to be hostile._

_He noticed Suki, who was sitting in a chair across the room, her sleeve pushed up to reveal a long, thin gash running down her forearm. She waved at him with her good arm as he crossed the room to her._

_"Hey, Austin," She greeted him, flicking her dark fringe out of her eyes, "Mind fixing this up for me?"_

_He gave a small smile as he lifted her arm to examine the wound, "You don't have to ask, Su. It's my job," He prodded the edge of the wound gently with his fingertips, "How much pain are you in?"_

_Suki winced as he did this, "Hurts like a bitch. But I was lucky. Another second in there, I'd have been dead meat."_

_Austin began to dab the cut with alcohol, "It's pretty superficial. You're fine. No stitches. Just a dressing." He pulled his roll of bandage out of his pocket as he spoke. She looked relieved._

_"Thanks, dude."_

_Austin glanced up for a moment as he started wrapping the bandage around her arm, and caught CC's eye, who grinned and began making his way over to them._

_"Hey," he said, planting a kiss on Suki's cheek. Then, noticing her arm, frowned, "You're hurt?"_

_She shoved him playfully in the chest with her other hand, "Oh, look at you, protective boyfriend. I'm fine. Just a scratch."_

_He scoffed, "Yeah,_ right _. You always play things down. Nothing's a big deal to you, Miss Reckless. Let me see." CC reached for her arm._

_She batted him away, "I told you, I'm_ fine _. Ask Austin! I don't even need stitches."_

_"No more trips to the city for you." He murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist as he kissed her cheek again, the black smears of war paint still on her face leaving a dark smudge across his lips._

_She grinned, "Just try and stop me."_

_He chuckled and was about to say something to counter that, leaning in closer to her, when Austin cleared his throat, a little awkwardly, "Still here, guys. So...how did the attack go?"_

_Suki grimaced at this, looking back up at him, "Not great. We had to retreat after a while, but I guess we were expecting that anyway. We're just lucky nobody died or got seriously hurt. It's not like we could've actually won. There were too many of them.”_

_Austin_ _was confused, “Well, what was the point of the ambushes then?” According to others he'd spoken to, three churches had been attacked and wrecked by their rebel army._

_“To send a message to these F.E.A.R. bastards. I think the point was to make an impact. You know Andy," She rolled her eyes at this, "He wants them to take us seriously."_

_"Well, it's definitely worked," CC pitched in, pulling pieces of rolled up paper from the back pocket of his black skinny jeans, "Check these out. I just got back from a raid, and they're all over town already. I picked some up to show the guys, because they need to see these, but they use big words and I don't know what they mean." He laughed as he handed Austin the papers._

_Austin_ _unrolled them. They were posters. The symbol of F.E.A.R. was drawn in gold ink at the top, the rest of the poster in beige and brown tones to match the dusty desert city. A sepia drawing depicting a rebel was inked underneath, but F.E.A.R. had given them needlelike teeth, razor sharp claws, cruel eyes and gargoyle-like faces. The boldest lettering at the top read, '_ Decree Number 01. Set forth by The Monarch: _'. Smaller writing, below this, said,_ 'As traitors to F.E.A.R. and as punishment for their transgressions, henceforth and forever, all rebels will be seen as hostile enemies, and are to be executed on sight. _'_

_The second poster was exactly the same, except the text read,_ 'Decree Number 02. Set forth by The Monarch: Any citizens suspected of betraying F.E.A.R. or having connections with rebels are to immediately be arrested on account of suspected treason, and are to be taken in for interrogation _.'_

_Austin gave a low whistle, and Suki, who had been reading over his shoulder, raised her dark eyebrows._

_"Wow," She muttered, "They're really not messing around. Guess we'll have to up our game. You need to show these to Andy, Chris – you know he'll only be mad if you don't."_

_"Yeah, yeah, I know. And I'm pretty sure we don't actually look like this." CC held the drawing up next to his face, mimicking the drawing comically._

_Suki smiled sweetly, "Oh, I can see a resemblance."_

_"Shut up, you. If I looked like that you wouldn't look twice at me. You're only with me because I'm so sexy." He flexed his wiry arm muscles._

_She rolled her eyes as Austin chuckled, "Yes, that must be it, Chris."_

_As they all laughed, it was easy to forget that F.E.A.R. was currently planning to have them all wiped out within a week._

~*~

It was around twilight when a knock sounded on our door. I didn't pay much attention to it; I was sitting in my room reading idly over my maths textbook, until I heard the unmistakeably gravelly voices of minions. Then I started listening curiously.

"We're looking for Mallory Mason. She is your daughter?"

"Yes...what's the problem?" My father's voice was guarded, probably thinking something along the lines of, _Oh, for God's sake, what's she done now?_

"She is to be taken in for questioning."

I felt my eyes widen in shock and bewilderment as my heart jolted.

" _What?_ " My mother sounded as alarmed as I felt, "Why? What's happened?"

The minion's voice was grim, "We found this on the streets after the attack on the church. After a DNA test, it became clear that it carried her fingerprints, as well as those of an unknown individual. It's possible she may have had a part in planning the whole thing."

There was a silence out in the hall. _What? What did I do? What did they find?_

Suddenly, a horrible feeling materializing in my gut, I reached into the pocket of my beige trousers, where I carried my screwdriver.

It was empty.

I stopped myself from uttering a curse word just in time; Oliver was also in the room. He started at me from where he sat on the edge of his bed, skinny legs swinging in the air, eyes afraid. "What did you do, Mal?" He whispered fearfully.

"Nothing, Ollie. I found something a few days ago and it fell out of my pocket. I'm innocent."

He relaxed visibly, but his eyes still carried worry, "Oh, okay."

My father spoke again, "Well she's not here at the moment, I'm afraid. Anna sent her on an errand to get some bread. You'll find her in the baker's, or walking home."

I gaped at the outright lie. Dishonesty with the minions or the law was a punishable crime, and the words had rolled so smoothly off his tongue, like he'd done it one hundred times before.

They murmured their thanks and left abruptly.

"What are you _doing_?!" My mother hissed, panicked, as soon as their footsteps disappeared down the stairs. Going to find me. Only I was sitting right here, thinking what my mother had just voiced.

"I had no choice, Anna,” There was a silence in which I pictured them sharing some sort of look, “Mallory," My Dad raised his voice so it carried through the apartment, "Come here, please."

Obligingly, I went out to them, Oliver scurrying after me.

"Listen," My father placed his hands on my shoulders, voice low and urgent, "We don't have much time. If you stay, you'll be imprisoned."

"But I didn't even do anything!" I protested. It was so unfair.

He shook his head sorrowfully, "That doesn't matter. They have all the evidence they need. Anyone who seems suspicious is arrested, and right now, my dear, you are top of list. You have no choice if you wish to be saved."

" _Surely,_ something can be done--" My mother tried to say desperately, but he cut her off, shaking his head again.

"You don't know them like I do, Anna. I know how they work."

I gulped nervously, "So I leave." I thought back to our conversation earlier. I wondered if he was making this up. Perhaps he was that desperate to get rid of me.

Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he spoke again, "This isn’t about keeping my family safe. This is about keeping _you_ safe. You're now a criminal in their eyes. Your life is in danger. I'm doing this because I love you,” I looked away, “Mallory, this is the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever will do. But we have to do this."

"O...kay," I did my best to remain calm, "So what happens now?"

His tone was authoritative and firm, "Take plenty of food and water. Go into the desert, following the rebels' footprints from earlier. There hasn't been a sandstorm yet today, so they'll still be there. Don't stop until you reach the camp. And _don't_ fall asleep," He glanced nervously at the front door, "You need to go within the next few minutes, or you'll run into them."

I turned towards the kitchen to get the things I'd need, but my mother had thought of that before me; she'd added water bottles, museli bars and a tube of sunblock to my school backpack, "H-here you go, honey."

“Wait.” I ran back into my bedroom, crouched at the wall and moved the broken piece of skirting board aside. With fumbling fingers, I grabbed my favourite book my father had gotten for me: 'The children's encyclopedia of everything'. The memories I had of it were happy ones; I'd loved this book as a child. Plus, it was fairly hefty and would make a good solid weapon.

Emerging back out into the living room, I allowed my mother to thread my arms through the straps of the pack; then, she pulled me around to face her and hugged me tight. She pulled away after a few moments to cup my face in her hands, eyes shining with tears.

"My little girl," She whispered, voice choked up, "You're so strong. I love you so much, honey. I'm so sorry about this."

"Mom, it's fine," I told her, smiling, though I was fighting tears too, "I love you too."

"Where is Mal going?" Oliver asked in his reedy, high-pitched voice.

"Someplace safe." She replied firmly, smiling bravely down at him. My father looked like he wanted to disagree with this statement, but remained silent.

"Are you gonna come back?" Ollie addressed me now, staring at me with wide, anxious eyes. His lower lip trembled.

"I...I don't think so, Ollie." I told him gently.

His face crumpled. I knelt down in front of him, setting my book aside so I could wrap him in my arms tightly. He hugged fiercely back, pressing his warm face against my shoulder, "I'll miss you, Mally."

"I'll miss you too." My voice cracked on the last syllable, but I wouldn't allow myself to cry. I didn't want Ollie's last memory of me to be a sobbing girl. Instead, I kissed the top of his head, then stood up and smiled. I clutched my book close to my chest.

"Don't want to pressure you or anything," Came my father's voice again, "But you need to leave _now_."

I took a deep breath. I could do this. I _would_ do this. I looked at my family one last time, and whispered, "Bye."

They murmured goodbye back, and my father said, all business, "Go to the church. Follow the prints from there. Stay in the shadows. Don't get caught."

"Be safe, and remember to use your sunblock." My mother added nervously.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Okay. Thanks, guys."

It had been my dream to run away and join the rebels for ages now. So why was it so hard to walk out of that door?

"Go!" My father urged me.

I got myself together, turned, and walked out without looking back once, because I knew if I did then I'd start to cry.

_Okay,_ I told myself, so _now all you have to do is get to the church without anyone seeing you, follow the footprints out into the desert and somehow find where the Wild Ones are hiding, even though F.E.A.R. themselves can't even figure it out._

Should be a piece of cake.


	6. Chapter 6

Normally, it was a quick stroll to the church, but tonight, everything was silent and shadowy and sinister. In the dark, every corner was unfamiliar and I had to move with caution along the wall. I knew that by night, minions paced the streets; the tall, curved horns on their masks cast strange shadows as they walked by, searching for rebels or danger. They held their staffs poised, ready to ambush. One walked past me at one point and I melted back into an alley, but it went on obliviously.

I had to take my time, creeping along slowly and sticking to dark alleyways and corners. My heart was constantly in my mouth; I was barely breathing for fear than they would see or hear me. Thankfully, I got to the church unseen, but it took a lot longer than I wanted it to. It was completely dark by the time I reached the building, the only light being the stars and moon hanging in the inky sky.

The church didn't look any different from the outside, bar the smashed windows, but I knew the inside was a wreck. Pews overturned, walls blackened from fires; ornaments broken and smashed, destruction everywhere. I shivered. The desert was so cold at night. I wished, not for the first time, that I had thought to take a jacket.

Checking that there were no minions around, I dashed across the street and into the shadows cast by the structure of the church. I then edged along the wall, heart still hammering, as my eyes flickered back and forth, searching for any signs of movement along the street. There were none – but I suspected it wouldn't stay that way for very long, so I turned the corner and found myself in the alley behind the church. The one where I had been talking to the deviant today.

I looked down at the sandy ground, and sure enough, as I squinted in the dark, there were several overlapping footprints in the sand, all leading the same way, out into the slums, and then, the desert. I was surprised F.E.A.R. hadn't thought of this, following the prints to find where The Wild Ones kept themselves hidden.

_Actually, why_ didn't _they think of this? Or maybe they did, but it didn't work, or there was something wrong with the idea..._ A nagging doubt began to form in the back of my mind, but a sound behind me made me jump and got my attention focused back on my current situation. Even if it didn't work, it was my only option. And it was worth a shot anyway, right?

"You can do this." I whispered fiercely to myself, and began to follow the prints.

They led through the narrow dirt tracks in between the slum shacks. I crept along as quietly as I could, trying not to make a disturbance. I turned a corner when I saw a girl about my age crouched at the side of the path. When she heard me, her head whipped around, and stared. Her dark hair was long and straggly, hanging in dirty clumps over her gaunt face; her eyes were wide. But now they focused closely on me and narrowed as an expression of distrust crossed her features.

"I don't have any money," She hissed, glaring, "Go away."

"Oh...I'm not...I don't...I'm just passing through."

She didn't budge, "That's what they all say."

"Well. Okay." I turned and started to walk off.

"Good luck, trying to get out of this place," She whisper-called to me, then laughed humourlessly, "You'll need it."

I paused. What did she mean? Did a lot of people come this way, looking for a way out? I turned around to ask what she meant by it, when minions' muffled voices began to draw closer.

Her head whipped around to look at me, "You're still here?! Run! Don't look back," I hesitated. Her eyes went wide, " _Go!_ "

I didn't need to be told twice. I turned and dashed, ducking around a corner out of sight of the minions that had just passed by.

I waited until there were no more sounds, until my breathing and the frantic pounding of my heart had slowed down, then crept out from my hiding place and carried on creeping through the shadows. I came to the last shack, and stood, staring at the vast expanse of sand stretched out as far as I could see, the tracks of rebels carving my path. This was the furthest I had ever been away from home. One half of my mind was screaming for me to go back, while the other urged me forwards.

Before moving, I took a moment to put my book in my bag, so my hands would be free if I needed to run, but I was trying to conserve my energy for the journey ahead. Then I took that first step out into the sand. Nothing happened. No yells of minions, no one running after me, no handcuffs around my wrists. Just the silence, and the cool night breeze. I took another step, feeling bolder. And another. And another. And another.

There was a dune a few hundred metres off. If I got as far as that, I'd be out of sight and safe. My pace quickened.

The dune edged nearer, and then I was past it and could allow myself to relax a little, yet my temples didn't cease their throbbing. I carried on walking, and after about ten minutes or so, I looked back to see that the city was nothing more than a shape on the horizon, lights twinkling. Had I known no better, I would've thought it a safe place to be. It didn't look particularly menacing from here. But I knew what went on there. What it was really about. And I was glad to be leaving. Mostly.

I carried on following the prints, further and further out. What were my family doing right now? Had F.E.A.R. come back to the house? Were they in trouble? Had they crumbled and told the minions where I had gone? Were they coming for me?

_Oh my God, Mallory, you've been away for less than an hour and already you're turning into a paranoid wreck. Calm down. No one knows, apart from your family, that you're gone. Stop thinking about them. It'll only make things harder._

I still couldn't resist looking back every few minutes, as the city got smaller and smaller, until it appeared to be no bigger than my fingertip.

I glanced at the drab watch I wore around my wrist. I had been walking for roughly twenty-five minutes, and my mouth felt dry. Retrieving one of my water bottles, I took a sip, the cool water a relief as it slid down my parched throat. The moonlight lit my way for me, the pale illumination making it easier to see the prints as I followed the tracks they made.

I walked. And I walked. And I walked.

An hour passed, and the city was now a tiny light on the horizon. I felt so alienated, far away, _alone._ I knew that within a few more minutes of walking, it would disappear from view completely. I stood and looked back one final time.

"Goodbye." I whispered, stupidly hoping that somehow, my family could hear me.

Facing back towards the desert, I continued walking, a little more briskly than before. I didn't look back again. My mind was in a dreamlike state, flitting from one musing to another, not focusing or thinking about much. I didn't know where the idea came from, but then a line of a poem started to form, just wisps of thought, but then I had come up with something.

_Take a look into the life you're leaving. I promise you this isn't pain you're feeling._

I whispered it, over and over, to myself as I walked away from everything I knew.

It was enough for me to keep going. Enough to give me hope.

~*~

I struggled to keep my eyes open as the sky began to grow lighter, to a pearly grey. Morning was arriving. I kept walking, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other, as I stumbled along, exhausted. I had only stopped throughout the night to drink or eat, then resuming my trek through the desert, following the outlaws' trails. Like my father had bid me, I had been careful not to sleep – but tiredness was stronger and I had woken up less than an hour ago to find myself curled up in the sand, with no recollection as to how I'd gotten there. I'd only slept an hour or so, but had roused myself from my slumber immediately.

I yawned widely, and tripped over a stone, falling painfully on my face as I did. I got up shakily, preparing to brush sand off my clothes – but there was none. Only sharp little rocks that had embedded themselves in my skin.

"What?" I frowned, confused, and looked at the ground, blinking in an attempt to rouse me from me half-asleep state. The desert floor was no longer sand, but parched, cracked and sun-bleached ground scattered with small stones and thorny, brittle desert plants. But that wasn't the worst thing.

This new, dry ground meant no more footprints for me to follow. I whirled around to look behind me, confirming that the prints led up to here, and then as the sand slowly disappeared, they ceased. I stared in disbelief that was quickly turning to horror, willing this to be a nightmare. But it wasn't.

"Shit." I muttered, the harsh word unfamiliar upon my lips. It had been the first curse word I had ever said, as it was forbidden in the city. My head pounded with worry.

_What am I supposed to do now?_

There was no way I could turn back; the hours I'd already spent walking couldn't be repeated, and I knew what awaited me if I returned to the city. I searched the ground for any hint or sign that I could follow with a growing sense of panic. My mind was frozen, blank, trying desperately to reject this new, stark reality, eyes tracing the shapes of plants and rocky mountains in the distance as I did. I sank slowly to my knees, numb as I accepted my fate.

My fumbling, tired hands slowly, clumsily opened my backpack, searching for the half-empty water bottle I had last drank from. I paused as I was rummaging through my bag, and counted the empty bottles with confusion. I counted them again. And again.

_Oh no. Please don't let this be happening._

I had one and a half bottles left.

_Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse._

I cursed myself for not paying attention to my water intake, and got up without taking a drink, only ripping open one of the granola bars. It was hard and chewy, tasteless as cardboard as I chewed, struggling to swallow due to my dry throat. I didn't realise until too late that it was the last one.

The sugar boost woke me up a little, and I decided, after a while of standing and staring, that the only thing I could do was hope that the rebels hadn't changed direction when they walked and that the camp wasn't much further away; for now I'd just carry on as best as I could.

_Have faith,_ I told myself, _They can't be that far away. They didn't even look as tired as you when they ambushed the church, so they couldn't have travelled far. You'll find them soon. Just keep looking._

I sighed, knowing I had to make a move. It could only get hotter as the day went by.

I lurched forwards again, into the plains that were identical in every direction, and headed for the mountain in the distance. It was faint, tiny, and purplish in colour. A new determination had been planted within me; though I felt drained, I still managed to stride onwards, driven by the images of a village of huts, black flags and welcoming smiles that now played through my mind.

I searched the horizon for any signs, and spotted something not very far away. I made my way over to it, heart pounding excitedly, but as I drew closer I realised it was just an old, rusty car, the type F.E.A.R. had banned. The only mode of transport they allowed within the city was walking.

I couldn't see what colour it was, as it had rusted over so much. The interior was ruined, the wheels and windows had gone and there were no signs of it being recently used, though I doubted due to its deteriorated state it was still usable. I circled it, searching for any sign, but the thing was half-embedded in the ground, and some of the metal was warped from the heat. I sighed, feeling only slightly disappointed that it wasn't a clue to find the rebels, and carried on walking.

That was, until fatigue and dehydration began to take over later that afternoon. It had gotten a lot hotter – the sunblock did nothing to soothe my skin – and sweat caused my clothes to cling to my body unpleasantly. My throat was sandpaper, dry as the desert itself, but I was unwilling to finish that last bottle, terrified at the thought of being stuck out here with no water.

My eyelids blinked slowly, heavily. I longed to lie down and take a nap, even on the baking, dry earth, but there were too many cacti around, bone-coloured needles thick, and I knew I tossed in my sleep. I shuddered at the image of waking up here. My footsteps were a slow, uneven _crunch, crunch,_ across the cracked ground.

I breathed in hot air. It was stifling out here, absolutely no breeze whatsoever. My stomach twisted and cramped painfully with hunger, but I had no food. My throat screamed for water, burning painfully as I breathed in, but I forced myself to carry on walking and not drink that last bottle. I still saw no signs of rebels anywhere in this desert void. Despair overwhelmed me, my hopes of finding the camp long diminished.

My eyes stared blankly out at the horizon. _There's nothing there, why are you bothering to carry on?_ Sighing, I sank to my knees, ignoring that spiky stones that jabbed my legs. I missed my family so much, it was almost a physical ache. I longed to be back home, but then reminded myself that if I had stayed then I would still have been separated from them.

_You're going to die,_ My mind told me, _You're going to die out here. It's better to have died trying, isn't it?_

I wanted to just curl up here on the ground, curl up into a helpless huddle and start crying, but I didn't want to lose any more water from my body than was necessary. Already I had lost too much through sweat, and my vision was going spotty. I didn't fare well with dehydration. _What the hell,_ I thought, and unscrewed the cap of my last later bottle. There was about a quarter left. I had drank the rest this morning. It was warm and musty, but it was water, and that was all I cared about. It dribbled down my chin as I gulped it, feeling wonderful as it flowed down my throat. But all too soon it was gone, and I found myself shaking the last drops from the bottom of the bottle.

I felt only slightly better for the drink, but I knew it wouldn't have much of an effect. I didn't get up from the ground, as I stared up at the bleached desert sky, the sun making me squint.

A black shape settling on the nearby branch of a wizened, long-dead tree made me jump, but it turned out to be one of those strange desert birds. _Vultures,_ I recalled after a moment. It watched me with narrowed, beady eyes: waiting, motionless. I gazed back. My father had told me about these birds, how they fed off dead bodies. That they could sense when an animal was about to die.

I almost laughed. _So I must be dying then._ This painful seizing of my muscles, the weakness of my limbs, the aching of my head, the heaviness of my eyelids _...this is what dying must be like._

I lay down fully on the ground, completely drained of hope.

_This...this isn't so bad. I'll die knowing that I never gave in to F.E.A.R._

I closed my eyes. Everything faded.

Time became ambiguous. Five minutes or five hours could have passed. There was nothing but the soothing black of unconsciousness.

And then I was vaguely aware of being rolled onto my back, a hand brushing grit from my face. A voice above me muttered curses. The hand pressed itself to my forehead, to the side of my neck. I would've squirmed away, but lacked both the strength and the inclination. _No, no, please, just leave me to die._

An arm dragged my limp body into a half-sitting position. Then something plastic was being pressed to my lips; miraculously, water trickled down my throat. I suddenly didn't care about anything else, but tried desperately to lift my head to get more water. It spilled out of my mouth and ran into my hair, but I was beyond caring. The cool wetness flowing down my throat was the best feeling I'd ever experienced. I drank, until the bottle was empty, then another replaced it. I drained that one too, drinking until my stomach ached.

Feeling a little stronger now, my eyelids flickered open, the harsh sunlight cutting into my vision like a knife. I blinked several times; it took a minute or so to be able to see properly.

Arm supporting my body, he crouched over me, empty bottle in hand, expression concerned, motorbike idling behind him.

The Deviant grinned, "We really have to stop running into each other like this."


	7. Chapter 7

The Deviant looked down at me from where he was crouched. There was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his dark eyes were worried.

I said nothing, still feeling weak and dizzy, and reached for the other bottle of water at his side. He angled it towards my mouth, and I drank I felt strong enough to hold the bottle without dropping it, drank until there was none left and my stomach was full.

"Here," He pulled some sort of packet from his bag, passed me a dry cracker, "Eat this. You'll feel a little better. I just saved your life, you know." He spoke this last part casually, as though it wasn't a particularly big deal.

"I suppose you did," I replied after a few seconds, my throat feeling strange and thick as I swallowed the cracker, "Guess that makes us even, then."

"I guess so," His gaze returned to me from where it had been scanning the horizon. Then, he frowned at me and said in a sterner voice, "What the hell are you doing out here? Did you really think you could find us? That was stupid as hell."

I broke away from his harsh glare for a few seconds, feeling foolish, then looked back, "Yeah...I know. I didn't have a choice. They were going to arrest me. I just hoped..."

He sighed heavily, "I was gonna take you back home, but I guess that's out of the question now."

I didn't reply. I felt small and weak and stupid.

"C'mon." He said unexpectedly after a while, jumping nimbly to his feet. His shadow had been blocking the sun for the most part before, and now I squinted as it hit my eyes.

"Huh?"

He held out a hand for me to pull myself up from the ground. My limbs still felt feeble and shaky, and I took his hand, dragging myself up from the dusty earth, but staggered, my knees giving, and collapsed back to the ground. He just chuckled, and helped me back up again. He handed me another cracker.

"I can't just leave you here, can I? They want to arrest you. You escaped. Ran away and defied F.E.A.R. That makes you a rebel, in my book. Might as well join the rest of us." The Deviant grinned.

I couldn't help but grin back, "Yeah, well, that's kinda why I came out here in the first place."

"Really," He replied dryly, "That sounded like a great plan, all except for the teeny, tiny flaw of having no idea where to go in the middle of a desert." A slight breeze had picked up now, blowing our hair away from our faces. It was a relief against my warm, clammy skin.

"I followed your footprints. But they disappeared...where is the camp, anyway?"

“You went past it.” He smirked at my shocked and confused expression.

 _What?!_ “Well, I didn’t see anything.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“That’s because it’s underground.”

“Seriously? Underground?” _How the hell was I supposed to find an underground camp?!_

“Well, yeah,” The Deviant looked at me as though it should’ve been obvious, “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know…like, an abandoned town that the rebels had taken over, or something.” I shrugged, glancing away, acting casual but feeling stupid for not thinking of it. He shook his head.

“Think about it,” He said, “Do you think that we’d really be that obvious? It’d be like waving a flag to F.E.A.R. and shouting ‘Hey, over here! Come bomb the shit out of us in your fancy hovercrafts!’” He waved his arms, acting it out.

“Hovercrafts?” I frowned again, “They banned all vehicles, though.”

“That’s what _you_ think,” The Deviant gestured towards his bike, “Where d’you think I got this?” He winked.

I raised my eyebrows, shocked. He _did_ have a point, but why would F.E.A.R. take vehicles away because they wanted to de-evolve things (their reasoning had been that they wanted everyone to lead simple and holy lives, but I didn’t believe a word of that for one second) then secretly keep them for their own use? I hadn’t ever seen a vehicle, except for in old pictures, and I hadn’t ever seen one in real life before today. The minions hadn’t ever used them for anything, so why would they feel the need to keep them?

The Deviant must’ve seen my puzzled expression, because he supplied, “It’s to give them an advantage over anyone who tries to rebel, or ‘criminals’. So they can control things more easily and capture outlaws when the time of uprising arrives.”

I felt another surge of loathing towards F.E.A.R.; was _anything_ they told us true?

I looked at the motorbike. It was huge, hulking and black and shiny like some giant insect. A low rumbling sound emitted from where it stood a few feet away, and a thin trail of dark smoke drifted out of the back.

"What's your real name?" I blurted abruptly. It had been bugging me for a little while, and I was curious. He looked a little surprised. Maybe he'd been expecting me to say something else.

"My real name?"

"Yeah. I mean, come on, The Deviant obviously isn't your actual _name._ If it is, then you must've had cruel parents."

He laughed, "Nah, that's just my title. I'm one of the leaders of The Wild Ones, so I have a title to protect my identity. My real name's Ashley Purdy, but most people just call me Ash," His forehead creased a little in a small frown, as though he was trying to remember something, "What did you say your name was again?"

"Mallory," I replied. _Purdy._ The name stuck in my head. Where had I heard that name before?

“Well, Mallory, you coming or what?” Ashley called over his shoulder to me as he strutted off, over to where his black motorbike stood. I noticed that the back of his sleeveless leather jacket was the same as the guy from the 'WANTED' poster, except on his was written 'The Deviant'. He sat on the bike, before looking back at my hesitant expression. His lips pulled up at the corners in a teasing smirk, “Aw, you’re not scared, are you?”

“No,” I said, a little too quickly to be entirely believable, my fingers twisting together in front of me nervously, “I’ve just never been on a motorcycle before.”

He shrugged, “Nothing to it. All you gotta do is sit behind me and hold on tight.” My feet didn't move from where I was, his words doing nothing to reassure me. I was still feeling pretty weak; I didn't know if I could hold on properly.

“W…what if I fall off? Won’t I need, I don't know, a helmet or something?” My voice involuntarily became a squeak as I eyed the glossy black machine warily. It looked fast. And dangerous.

He chuckled at my anxious expression, shaking his head, “You won’t fall off. C’mon, it’s fine. Nothing to be scared of.” He patted the space behind him on the leather seat.

After a pause, I relented, and crossed over to the bike. Once was seated, I cautiously put my arms around his waist, interlocking my fingers tightly. I wasn't particularly tall, so my feet dangled off the ground.

"I can tell I'm not going to enjoy this." I muttered, closing my eyes. Just the thought of whizzing across the desert, exposed like that was enough to make me feel queasy.

I couldn't see his face, but I almost knew he was rolling his eyes, "Aw, don't be a wimp. It's fun!" The engine roared loudly to life and I clutched Ashley a little tighter, a small whimper escaping my lips. He laughed at me as he revved the engine, "Just remember to keep your mouth shut. You might choke on an insect. It's happened to me before."

 _What. The. Hell._ "Insec--AAAAHHHHH!" The bike shot off without warning, and the scenery was flying past us in a blur, the wind stinging my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, the fast blur making me even more nauseous. My arms clamped around his waist; I was pretty sure I was crushing his ribcage but I didn't care – my priority at that moment was not falling off the death machine. The roar of the deafening motor and the sound of my own shrieking filled my ears, but I could still hear his bellowing laugh over it, feel his torso shaking as he practically split his sides laughing.

After what seemed like forever, the motorcycle finally slowed to a stop. I didn't hesitate in clambering off and stumbling out of dizziness as I distanced myself from the bike. I glared in his direction, "Never. Again."

Ashley's response was to snicker and shake his head mockingly, "I've never seen someone so terrified of speed. I wish I had a camera – your face is priceless!"

"Yes," I said, words dripping sarcasm, "I'm so glad you delight in my terror." I swallowed, still feeling strangely dizzy and lightheaded.

"Are you okay?" Ashley frowned, concerned, as the bike's engine died and he hopped off, circling it to walk over to me, "You look really pale."

Despite the water and the crackers I had consumed, I still felt weak, and the motorcycle ride certainly hadn't aided my condition. I blinked a few times, my vision going fuzzy. Then my head started to spin. Slowly at first, but gathering speed.

"Shit," I groaned weakly. The curse came surprisingly naturally, "I think I'm going to pass out." And then the ground rushed up to meet my face.

The last thing I felt was Ashley catching me, before I blacked out for the second time that day.

~*~

I woke up to a dimly lit, unfamiliar room. Lifting my head a little, I noted that I lay on a single mattress, a thin grey blanket draped over my body. My head rested on a pillow, which was bliss for my aching neck. I knew this wasn't the most comfortable bed I had ever slept in, but right at that moment I felt as though I was the most serene I had ever been. I hadn't slept for what seemed like a lifetime, and I'd been trekking through the desert all day.

As my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, I turned my head to the side, and saw a tray set on the floor beside me. It held a cup of water and some slices of dark bread. I sat up immediately, realising my hunger. Ignoring the head rush I got from doing this, I pulled the tray to me. I gulped the water down, then stuffed the bread into my mouth. It was thick and heavy and grainy, but I didn't care. I didn't pause for breath until I'd finished the whole meal. My stomach finally feeling full again, I allowed my head to sink back into the pillow with a contented sigh. I was about to drift back into unconsciousness when a knock at the 'door' – it was actually a few wooden planks propped up against the threshold to provide privacy – sounded. I groaned quietly to myself; all I wanted was to sleep.

The person who had been knocking shoved several planks to the side and entered the room without waiting for my answer. The unfamiliar girl had long, red and black hair that hung almost to her waist in loose curls. She had a pale, pretty face which smiled down at me, though her black-outlined eyes were wary.

I stared. Her hair was _red._ Not all black, like everyone's in the city, but a defiant crimson. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. It looked so different from what I was used to.

"Hi," Her voice was soft and sweet, "I'm Sammi. What's your name?"

I propped myself up on my elbows, completely conscious of the fact that I looked like death warmed up, "I'm Mallory," I made an attempt at smiling back, though I was cautious, "Um, where am I?" I looked around the room. The walls were formed from dark, purplish rock – from the natural hollows in the wall, I would've guessed it to be volcanic. The floor was made from the same rock, but more worn and dusty; the flickering light source emanated from a flaming torch on the wall opposite me. Another mattress was pushed next to mine, and there was a battered chest in one corner. To my relief, I saw my backpack lying on top of the chest.

"Well, this is my room. Ash put you in here after you passed out. You've been asleep for a while, y'know, but I'm glad you're feeling better," She gave another smile, seeming to genuinely mean it, "You can go back to sleep if you want, but –”

At that moment, I heard quick footsteps making their way closer to the door from outside. Ashley stuck his head around the door, and looked from Sammi to me.

"You're awake! Finally! Sheesh," He rolled his eyes, "How long can one person sleep for?"

"Shut up, Ash, she walked from the city to here, which is more than you could do," Sammi mock-glared at him before shooting me a grin, then looking back to Ashley, "Anyway. Is there something you wanted?"

He nodded, "Yeah, just saying that it's dinner time. Mal should come meet everyone."

 _Wow, that sounds ominous._ "Okay." I mumbled, sitting up fully, pushing my dirty hair behind my ears in an attempt to look more presentable. I was about to get up when Sammi stopped me.

"Wouldn't you rather clean up first?" She asked tentatively, "It's just that, well...you're a bit dirty."

I smiled at her, grateful for her offer. I hated feeling so grimy, "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

Ashley nodded once more, "'Kay, well, take her down when she's ready." Then he left again.

Sammi gave me a reassuring smile, then pointed to a curtain behind my head, "Shower's behind there. I'll get you some fresh clothes," Seeing me eye her tall figure doubtfully, she added, "My clothes will probably be to big for you, so I'll get you something of Suki's." She smiled again before leaving the room.

I kicked the blanket off me before standing up and stretching, my joints cracking as I did. I still felt tired and aching, my limbs still flimsy, but my condition had improved considerably. I smiled to myself as I pulled off my clothes, then got into the shower. _How the hell do they have showers here? Where does the water come from?_ I'd have to ask Sammi about it.

 Once, I had figured out how to turn it on, the water was warm – a pleasant change from home. But thinking of home made my head hurt, so I quickly stopped that thought. The warmth of the water soothed my aching muscles, and the hissing sound of it was what I imagined rain was like. I stood under the flow, soaping my hair and marvelling at the warmth. I was still unable to get over the fact that I was actually here, not trapped in the city any more, actually part of the rebellion now.

"Wild One." I whispered to myself over the sound of the water. It seemed weird. Surreal.

I scrubbed at myself with a flannel until all the dust and grime from the desert was swirling down the drain, and I actually felt clean again. Then, turning the water off, I stuck my head around the curtain. I hadn't heard Sammi re-enter the room, but she had left a towel and a neatly folded pile of dark clothes on the mattress while I had been in the shower.

I examined the clothes. In the city we all had to wear the same, beige plainclothes. These items were unlike anything I'd ever worn before. The trousers were black, tight-fitting; the material was nothing I'd ever felt before. The material at the knees was ripped – I wasn't sure if it was deliberate or not, but they still looked good. Edgy. I pulled them on, and they fit perfectly.

The t-shirt was long-sleeved, fitted, and also black. There was a dark grey skull motif across the chest. I put that on too, smiling like an excited child on their birthday. I looked so different. I _felt_ so different.

The last items were black socks and black boots. I put these on, and was sitting on the mattress, struggling with the laces on the bulky shoes when Sammi came back in.

"Ready yet?" She asked, looking me up and down approvingly, "You look rad!"

"Thanks." Giving up on the stupid laces, I just tucked them into the boots and followed her out of the door. The corridor outside had a similar decor to Sammi's room; stone walls and floor – this place looked to be a cave of some sort -- and torches lining the walls. In small hollows in the walls sat lanterns and skulls. I didn't know if the skulls were real or not, and didn't want to find out.

Several makeshift doors ran the length of the corridor – there were screens, planks of wood like Sammi's room, sheets of metal, curtains – all with black numbers etched onto their surfaces. Sammi's was number 074. I looked around, fascinated, when I realised she was already halfway down the corridor, and rushed to catch up with her.

"What _is_ this place?" I asked in a hushed voice, awed.

"It used to be below a city," Ashley suddenly cut in from behind me, as he caught up with us, "It was one of F.E.A.R.'s underground prisons. The city was demolished decades ago, but this place was forgotten. We made it our home, and so far, F.E.A.R. have no clue."

"That's...pretty cool." Actually, it felt kind of unnerving knowing this place used to be a prison. I saw the hints of what it used to be like in the small rooms, packed tightly together, in the shadowy, narrow corridors. The firelight seemed menacing too, until I reminded myself that this was a safe place for me.

The three of us walked down the corridor until it began to widen out, and sounds of chatter could be heard, growing louder as we drew closer. We came to a stop in the shadows just next to a large doorless entrance that opened out into a spacious hall; it was filled with people all sat around mismatched tables, eating and talking, the cacophony filling my ears. On the wall behind them, above a raised platform kind of like a stage, was painted the rebels' star symbol, so huge it nearly covered the whole wall. In the centre of the star was a painting of a skull wearing a rebels' mask, and in between the gaps that the star left, there were tiny blurs and scrawls of writing I couldn't make out from where I stood.

I watched in fascination. The rebels were all sat, eating the same bread I had been given earlier, and some sort of vegetable soup. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them. I was used to seeing everyone look the same, with brown clothes and black hair, but they were all so different. A range of skin tones and hair colours, and most of them had tattoos or piercings. A guy sitting near the entrance to the hall had dark golden skin, with chocolate hair and a silver ring in his nose. A loquacious girl a little further away had pink-and-blond hair and tattoos of roses trailing up her neck and across her collarbones. They were all so colourful, so vibrant and so _alive._ They looked happy, too. I was so used to everyone being terrified, but these people didn't seem afraid of anything. They were actually _laughing._ It seemed so real.

Sammi saw my hesitation and mistook it for shyness, "Come on," She coaxed, "Don't be nervous."

I gave her my best fearless smile, though I was feeling anxious. What if they hated or mistrusted me? What if I wasn't allowed to stay?

"I'm not nervous." I lied. Sammi and Ashley exchanged doubtful looks. To prove my point, I strode forwards into the noisy dining hall; after a pause they followed me. I did my best to appear cool and controlled and unafraid of anyone.

I glanced around as I walked, still feeling on edge. At first, only a few people looked my way. They did double takes, then whispered to the others on their table, who turned to watch us too. The chatter died down to a whisper, then complete and utter silence as every pair of eyes in the room stared with distrust. I gulped nervously, wondering if my thumping heart was audible to them in the quiet. It certainly felt loud to me, pounding in my ears.

I faltered in my stride, and slowed to an uncertain stop, as I glanced around. _Yup, they're still staring, Mal._ I looked back at Sammi and Ashley, but their expressions weren't particularly reassuring. This wasn't going the way I had imagined it.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, "Um....hi." I ventured, then winced at how lame it was. How weak and shaky my voice sounded. It didn't matter, anyway. I was still met with a wall of stony stares and silence.

Just as I felt beads of nervous sweat begin to form on my forehead, someone on a table to my right stood up.

I vaguely recognized the man from somewhere, though I couldn't place him. He was tall and lean, with heavily tattooed skin. Untidy black hair was shaved on one side, and the longer part hung into one eye. He was dressed in black pants, a sleeveless denim jacket, a ripped black vest. His face was pallid and angular, high cheekbones carving smooth lines below fierce blue eyes that glared. But the glower wasn't directed at me; he stared over my shoulder, at Ashley.

"What the hell _,_ Ash?" His deep voice demanded furiously, echoing throughout the hall, as his gaze flickered between Ashley, Sammi and I. He looked so angry that I took a few steps back, to where Sammi and Ash stood.

I suddenly realised where I knew him from; he had been the vocalist on the rebels' broadcast! I would know that voice anywhere. His confident posture, the way everyone watched him; he was obviously the leader. And he sure as hell didn't seem too happy with my arrival, which couldn't bode well for me.

He muttered something to the guys seated around him; they all got up and made their way over to us. People parted like the red sea for them, murmuring excitedly amongst themselves, probably wondering what the hell was going on and who the hell I was.

The four guys reached where we stood. My memory placed them as the musicians from the broadcast and I wondered if these were the rebel leaders. All the front guy said was, "Meeting room, now. Bring her." He gestured in my direction without so much as a glance at me, before leaving with his entourage.

Ashley exhaled heavily as soon as they'd left, shooting me an unreadable look. I was shocked. I didn't know what I had been expecting on arrival, but certainly not cold hostility. Doubt flashed through me as I wondered if The Wild Ones were such good people after all. The thing was, I didn't even know what was wrong, why the leader had been so angry. I hadn't done anything to provoke anyone. I still couldn't figure it out, no matter how many times I turned the words over in my mind, as we walked back down the corridor, Ashley leading the way. _I thought he had said they were looking for recruits?_

"Where are we going?" I asked Sammi timidly.

"To see the council." She wasn't really listening, wrapped up in a bubble of her own thoughts.

"The council?" I began to feel increasingly nervous. She didn't answer, so I nudged her shoulder and repeated my question.

She twirled a lock of hair around one long, pale finger, "Well, they're the leaders of the rebels. There's five of them: Andy, Ashley, Jake, CC, and my Jinxx," She smiled softly, then continued, "You don't have to be anxious, though, they probably just want to meet you and tell you about how things work around here. It'll take some getting used to, I know. But you'll settle in quickly enough."

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Really? Seems like they're pretty pissed with me, whatever I've done."

She shook her head, "You haven't done anything, Mallory. Andy's just funny about...certain things." I assumed Andy was the leader who had spoken so angrily.

Ashley looked over his shoulder at us. Despite the gloom, I still saw the half-worried, half-annoyed expression on his face. He said, "Well, Andy's not happy. And when Andy's not happy, no-one's happy."


	8. Chapter 8

We came to what I assumed to be the meeting room, the rebel council already inside. I heard the faint murmuring of voices behind the sheet of metal that was being used as a door. Ashley knocked, his fist making a loud, clanging sound against the surface, then heaved it aside without waiting for a response. He glanced over his shoulder, and gestured for me to follow. I did, after a hesitation and a glance back at Sammi, who smiled reassuringly and waved me forwards.

The room was large and circular, and reminded me of pictures in a history book I had seen. There were bookcases everywhere, crammed with papers and books and things I didn't even recognize. Several lit torches were mounted on the walls, casting a flickering light over a table made from dark wood which the four men were sat around, all deep in conversation until we entered. I fixed my gaze to the floor nervously, yet I could still feel their stares. Ashley nudged me forwards slightly.

"There'd better be a good explanation for this, Ash." I heard Andy say after a moment of tense silence; I continued to keep my eyes on my feet, my still-damp hair falling into my eyes as I looked down.

"Sure there is," Ashley's voice was cheerful. He didn't seem to be at all concerned, pulling out the only spare chair to drop into it casually, propping his feet up on the wooden surface of the table as he did. Through my bangs, I saw him gesture towards me, "I was riding on my bike through the desert when I came across Mallory here. She had escaped from the city to try and find our camp – she wanted to join the rebellion. Didn't see anything wrong with bringing her back here," I lifted my head a fraction, to see Ashley give a nonchalant little shrug, "Don't get why you're so pissed."

I glanced up through my hair a little more to see that one of the other guys was watching me. His shoulder-length black hair was slightly wavy, his skin deeply tanned. His dark eyes were kind, and he grinned before giving a friendly little wave. I smiled back tentatively.

Turning my attention back to the current conversation, I saw Andy and Ashley share a look that seemed to be saying a lot in a silent language I didn't understand. Andy's voice was quietly seething when he eventually spoke, "You can't just bring in random girls wandering the desert."

"I had no choice," Ash sat up in his chair, "When I found her, she was half-dead – and she's not in much better shape now. I couldn't just leave her there, could I? I don't get what the big deal is; you said we needed more people.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't mean that you shou–”

“I couldn't have taken her back to the city, either, before you say that, 'cuz F.E.A.R. were gonna arrest her."

"That's what she told you. But she could easily be one of their spies." I looked up, alarmed, to see that they were all watching me now. Andy's arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes narrowed at me suspiciously. _Spy?_ _Oh, come on. This is ridiculous._ I wanted to defend myself, but my mouth and throat seemed to have dried up.

Ashley seemed to share my views. He scoffed, "A spy? Andy, just look at her. Harmless. I get you're worried, dude, but don't you think that maybe you're overreacting a little?"

Andy's lip curled as his eyes turned back to Ashley, "Overreacting? No. If I were F.E.A.R., she's exactly the sort of person I'd send to spy on the enemy. You'd never suspect her – she looks totally innocent. Vulnerable, even. Just 'cause F.E.A.R. can't find our camp themselves, doesn’t mean they're stupid."

Throughout this little speech, anger and frustration slowly built inside me at his words. Not only were they talking about me like I wasn't even there, he was getting it completely and utterly wrong. And yet I knew that if I said anything in my defence, it would only further his suspicion.

Suddenly, the guy who had smiled spoke, a small frown creasing his forehead, "But Ashley said when he found her, she was half-dead."

Andy looked at him, "So . . . ?"

"So, what I'm saying is," The guy replied, leaning forwards, palms flat on the table, "If she's working for F.E.A.R., surely they wouldn't have left her in the desert like that to dehydrate? If she was working for them, I think by now they would've taken her back to the city, or ambushed the camp. Ash said she was near-dead when he found her. Whoever she is, she's come here alone."

Andy tilted his head to the side as he considered this. Ashley looked a little put out, slumping in his chair, "I can't believe I didn't think of that." He muttered.

A moment passed, then Andy said, "Yeah, but–", and lowered his voice to a barely audible murmur, the other guys leaning in to hear what he was saying. A whispered debate began, carrying on for a few minutes while I stood in silence, shuffling my feet awkwardly.

This went on for a while; just as I was considering saying something, they all leaned back in their chairs. Ashley's expression was smug as he looked at me over his shoulder.

Andy's eyes fixed on my face; the steeliness in his blue irises made me want to glance away, but I held the eye contact. I knew it was important that I looked strong.

"We've made a decis–"                                         

"You can stay!" Ashley interrupted, grinning.

"For now," Andy added sharply, shooting Ashley a look, "But we'll have to see how you cope. The youngest person we have currently is nineteen. You're what, fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Nearly seventeen." I corrected. If you were very fluid with the definition of 'nearly'.

"The training is pretty intense. And you're young," He eyed me doubtfully. I knew he was still mistrustful, even though nothing more had been said about me being a spy. I could tell from the expression on his face, the look in his eyes. He didn't trust me, not one bit.

I jutted my chin out and crossed my arms defensively over my chest, "Oh, I'm pretty sure I can manage." I liked how my voice sounded; unafraid with an insolent edge. I flicked my fringe out of my eyes as I continued to stare him down. I was really starting to feel like one of them, a rebel, and Andy wasn't going to kill my buzz. I wouldn't let him.

Still, his expression didn't change much, only a slight raising of his eyebrows, "We'll see."

I glared indignantly. _Asshole_. My anger inflated the longer he watched me with that expression, and suddenly, I felt an urge to prove this bullheaded leader wrong. I took a deep breath and let all my anger and frustration that I had been bottling up run freely.

"Listen here. You want to know the reason why I had to leave the city, my family, my _home_? Why F.E.A.R. wanted to arrest me? Because I was keeping you and your Legion a secret. I didn't trek all night and day through the desert and almost die of dehydration to stand here and be insulted – I'm not a spy!" I took a bold step closer. Andy wore an expression of irritation mixed with surprise on his (admittedly quite attractive) face. He leaned back slightly in his chair, regarding me coolly. I continued furiously, "If I was this spy you claim me to be, when I found the screwdriver one of you dropped when re-wiring the speakers, I could've just handed it in, couldn't I? Helped F.E.A.R. catch you? But I didn't. When I saw Ashley on the street a few days ago, I could've reported him. But guess what? I didn't. And in the church, when I ran into Ash again, I could've easily killed him if I worked for F.E.A.R., couldn’t I? But I didn't, so stop being an ass!"

I wasn't aware how loud my voice had gotten until I stopped speaking, breathing heavily in the silence. Maybe I still wasn't healthy enough to be screaming at the top of my lungs, but Andy had managed to burst my nice little bubble. They all sat in stunned muteness, staring at me.

I think I had gotten my point across pretty well.

The silence was broken by one of the guys who hadn't spoken until now; he chuckled and muttered, "We got a firecracker here." He grinned, but I didn't respond. I continued to stare Andy down, glaring at him with a challenge in my eyes; daring him to argue, to one-up me.

After a few moments, he stood. He was very tall, at least six feet, and I was forced to look up into his face. When he spoke, the calm in his voice was maddening, "I already said you could stay."

Despite his manner of speaking, there were undertones of condescension and his eyes were tight with annoyance, making me feel so infuriated my skin felt like fire. Maybe my tiredness was making me cranky, but I almost wanted to hit him for being so obstinate. I refrained; it would get me nowhere except a one-way ticket back to the city.

A smirk played across his lips. I gritted my teeth, refusing to rise to the bait.

Suddenly I heard the sound of the 'door' opening behind me. I turned around to see a pretty girl looking to be in her early twenties had stuck her head around the door, expression somewhat confused. She had dark hair and centimeter-wide holes in her earlobes.

"Everything okay?" She asked, looking around the room, "I heard yelling," Her eyes landed on me; her face seemed to light up as she beamed and the rest of her appeared as she walked into the room, "Oh, hi! You're new, right? I'm Suki. What's your name?"

Before I could reply, she continued at a furious pace, "God, you're young! And you look so tired! Where'd you come from? The city? What's it like there now? I mean, I've been there, but living there is completely different, right? I heard that–"

"Calm down, Su, the poor girl looks terrified." The guy with the wavy hair told Suki, smiling fondly as he got up and walked over to her. Seeing Andy and this guy standing, Ashley and the two others got up as well.

Suki grinned sheepishly at him, then me, "Sorry. I talk too much when I'm excited. What did you say your name was?"

"Mallory." I couldn't help but smile at her bubbliness.

"It's nice to meet you, Mallory – I'm Suki. Wait, I already said that! Sorry. This is Chris." She gestured to the wavy-haired guy, whose arm was around her.

He smiled at me, “Call me CC. Everyone does.”

"Hate to burst your bubble, Su, but this is a private meeting . . . " The guy who had called me a firecracker told her.

"Shut up, Jinxx," She replied cheerfully before facing back to me and grabbing both my hands in hers, "Come on! You have to come and meet everyone," Seeing my doubtful expression, Suki added, "Don't worry, they'll love you!" Then, before I could argue, I was being half-dragged out of the room by a girl who was surprisingly strong for someone only a little bigger than me. The council all followed, except for Andy, who stayed standing next to his chair as he watched us go, arms folded across his chest and expression unreadable. I glanced back to give him a petty, triumphant smirk. Andy glowered, and pointed to his eyes, then at me. _I'm watching you_.

If I had known any rude hand signs or gestures, I probably would've made one as we turned around the corner and he disappeared from view.

 

~*~

 

I sat down at the long table with my breakfast tray, blinking heavily from tiredness. Two days had passed, and I was already settling in fairly well. I recognized most people now, could put quite a lot of names to faces and had made a few new friends, which I was really quite pleased with. I had never had any friends before.

On my left sat Suki, nibbling at a chunk of bread as she chatted with CC and a friendly, tall guy called Austin, who was the healer and ran the hospital wing. On my right sat a girl called Alice. At the age of twenty-three, Alice had cropped brown hair that swept across her forehead; her muscled arms were covered in tattoos, and she looked a little intimidating but turned out to be really sweet, yet with a sharp, sarcastic tongue. She was currently ignoring Ashley's attempts to flirt with her, which was very amusing.

Just then, I heard someone sit down in the vacant seat opposite me. I glanced up, then immediately looked away again, praying my face wouldn't flush. Andy had just sat down in between Austin and Ashley, and after nodding to his friends, fixed his eyes on me. I hurriedly pretended to be fascinated by my bread, wondering what he wanted.

"Uh, Mallory, right?" He asked me, deep voice a little hesitant, "Hi."

I didn't answer, but continued to look away. He carried on despite my frostiness, "I'm sorry about being a dick the other day. I just have to make sure that everyone who joins the legion can be trusted. I have to be so, so careful. You understand that, right?"

I gave a short nod, his apology taking me unawares yet not wanting to give up so easily.

Andy sighed, the tone of it weary and irritated, "Look . . . I know we didn't get off to the best of starts, but I'm willing to overlook it if you will too." I met his gaze. His bright blue eyes were open and honest; he seemed to genuinely mean what he was saying.

I sighed; holding grudges really wasn't my thing, "Deal." Despite acting forgiving, I was still a little annoyed about the way he had behaved towards me. But I felt like there was something else. This apology seemed strange, out of the blue. In the past few days I hadn’t seen any trace of him, and suddenly he shows up all apologetic?

 But I decided to let it go. For now. Besides, it was hard to stay angry at someone so attractive.

"Excellent," He cracked a grin.

Despite myself, a smile broke out across my face. Nothing more was said, and we ate in silence for a while. Breakfast today was a hunk of slightly stale bread and a protein bar. As unappealing as it was, I swallowed the food down; I vowed I would get as strong as I possibly could.

“So, Mallory, what brings you to the dark side?” He enquired with a wry smile.

After a hesitation, I told him all about my hatred of society, about the wanted poster, about the screwdriver, meeting Ashley, and my father's harsh words. About leaving in the dead of night, my exhausting journey, and being brought back to camp. The bit about the motorcycle made him laugh, and I mock-shuddered at the memory; but my mind was elsewhere, wondering what he really wanted. There was undoubtedly an ulterior motive for such an abrupt change of behavior.

“I was born in the city,” Andy was telling me, “But my parents escaped when I was, like, two or three. They knew this place existed, and they knew it was long forgotten by F.E.A.R., so it made for a great hiding place. I pretty much grew up with the rebellion; others soon joined the camp and the rebel force was formed. But they chose to stay undercover. Until now.”

My head tilted to the side, “Okay, so why now? What's changed?”

“Well, for one thing, everyone was getting somewhat impatient,” He explained, scratching his neck, “Some started to doubt our leadership. There was a lot of conflict for a while, but recent events have pretty much solved that, I think. Also, F.E.A.R. had let their guard down out of arrogance; they weren't expecting anything as big as a rebel army, and so the element of surprise allowed us to have the upper hand.”

“If you wanted to surprise them, wouldn't it have been better to wait until you attack?”

“Maybe,” He ripped open his protein bar with his teeth, took a bite and swallowed before continuing, “But if we did that, there would be confusion. People would be scared of us or think that we were trying to attack _them_ rather than F.E.A.R.; by getting out a clear message that we were trying to help, it was less likely they'd go running to F.E.A.R. for help. And–” He broke off all of a sudden, as if restraining himself from saying any more. His eyes flickered away from my face, “But I'm probably boring you to death with all this.” Andy laughed, but his eyes were focused now on a point over my shoulder.

I frowned, “No, I'm listening. Carry on.”

He made some vague gesture, and carried on eating like he hadn't heard me.

Then I realized. _He_ _’_ _s still suspicious of me; he won't tell me about their side of the rebellion because he's still got it into his head that I'm working for F.E.A.R._ I sighed in resignation; nothing I could say would make him trust me, and I knew it. Obstinacy was I trait I recognized in him because of my own stubbornness.

There was a moment of silence.

"So . . . you up for a raid today?"

"Um, what?" I was mystified.

"You know, to the city. We're running low on supplies, and Jake tells me he thinks that something is going on there today. We want to check it out. You should come too. It'll be a good experience for you." He trailed off.

"Um . . . ," I was doubtful. Surely there was some sort of ulterior motive here? "I haven't had any combat training yet."

"It's okay; we don't get caught. What do you say?" He watched me intently as though decoding my reaction.

The thought of sneaking around the city right under F.E.A.R.'s noses sent a thrill through me. In a way, I wanted to go back: to see how the city had changed since I had left. Maybe the rebels would let me see my family.

At that thought, I felt a pang of guilt. Ever since I got here, I’d been so involved that they hadn't once crossed my mind. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of them. I felt so selfish. In that moment, I promised myself I'd try to look out for them while in the city.

I nodded once, decisively, "I'm in."

~*~

"Don't scratch," Alice scolded as she applied black war paint to my face, "You'll smudge it!"

"It's itchy." I complained, fidgeting in my seat. The weight of the makeup on my face felt odd – another new experience that I had gained since arriving here.

She smiled, "You'll get used to it. There – done!" She leaned back to assess her handiwork with a satisfied grin, "You look awesome."

There wasn't a mirror in the small room I had been assigned, but I felt awesome. My lips stretched into a grin.

At that moment, the dark curtain covering the doorway was pushed aside, and Jake, who was also wearing war paint, peered around it, "Ready yet, guys?" His voice was quiet, as it always was. He seemed despondent, but that was the general vibe he had been giving off continually.

I looked at Alice, then back at Jake, and nodded, smiling again with anticipation, "Ready."

"Okay. I'll go tell Andy." He quickly departed without another word.

"Why is Jake so down all the time?" I asked Alice curiously as she leaned down to tie her heavy boots.

She sighed and after a moment, looked up at me with a sort of sad expression, "Jake lost someone a few months ago."

"Who?" The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Ella, his fiancée. She went out into the desert alone one day and never came back. We don't know what happened to her."

I didn’t know what to say, "That's _awful._ " I had never lost someone so I didn't know exactly how it felt, but I could imagine that losing someone who meant so much to you would be especially painful. Poor Jake. No wonder he was so depressed.

Alice nodded, "Yeah. But _don't_ say anything to him about it, okay? It's what you might call a delicate subject."

"Of course." After Alice had finished tying her boots, we left the room and made our way down the busy corridor. Only a small group of us were going into the city; the rest were getting about their daily lives. A few stared at me, most likely wondering how the new girl with no combat skills got to go on the raid and they didn't. I didn't even know myself why Andy had picked me; perhaps it was some sort of initiation test? I began to feel very uncomfortable in my black tunic with the star painted onto it, my black fitted pants and boots. The paint streaked across my face, neck and arms felt sticky and heavy on my skin as their eyes bored into me. But I didn't let it show. I held my head high and walked with a confident stride as Alice led the way.

We arrived soon at the meeting room that I had been taken to on arrival here. Alice entered without knocking, so I followed suite, pushing the sheet of metal back over the doorway after I entered the room – it was surprisingly heavy. I turned around to see a small group gathered around the table, sitting and standing. There were a few I knew: Andy, Ashley, Jake, CC (Jinxx was staying behind to 'keep an eye on things', Alice had told me earlier), Suki, and a short guy with messy dark hair who I had never spoken to, but knew that his name was Kellin. Then, three others who I didn't know, all male. They all appeared to be looking at a large piece of paper spread across the table with great interest. I edged closer.

Suki skipped over to where Alice and I stood at the edge of the circle, grinning, "Hey guys! Wow, Mal, you look rad! Your first raid! Are you excited? I know I am!" She babbled at a high speed, eyes sparkling excitedly.

I grinned at her. Her enthusiasm was infectious, "Can't wait."

"Me too! C'mon, Andy's showing us the map." She tugged me by the arm, closer to the table.

"Map?" I peered at the paper, curious. On it I saw a network of lines and shapes and markers in red that formed what I assumed was an illustration of the city. I only knew my way around the outer part, towards the east, where I had lived, and had never been to the centre, so I studied it with fascination.

"Hey, you're from the city, right?" A strangely accented voice asked me. I turned to see one of the guys I didn't know standing next to me. He was fairly short, with pallid skin and a bright red fringe that fell into his eyes. The centre of his lower lip was pierced. He held out a fingerless glove-clad hand, "I'm Kier."

"Mallory," I answered, awkwardly shaking his hand, "And yeah, I am."

He looked immensely interested, "So you probably know your way around already, right? Could be a useful asset."

His addressing me was odd; like I was an inanimate object, "Um, well, I only really know my way around the outskirts of the east side. Sorry."

He looked a little disappointed, but shrugged, "Hey, don't worry about it. I can't imagine anyone knowing their way around the whole place by heart."

"Where are you from?" I asked, changing the subject, "You have an accent."

Kier looked a little mournful, and his eyes misted over a little, "Far away," He answered softly, then blinked and grinned, "But hey. I'm here now."

I nodded, unsure of how to continue the conversation. Just then, Andy cleared his throat for attention. Everyone leaned in closer to hear what he was saying.

"Okay, guys, today’s just a general raid, so the usual stuff, but that doesn’t mean you can relax. You all know the rules: keep low, stick to the shadows, follow my orders and stick together. Right?" Everyone mumbled in a bored fashion. He was clearly just repeating the rules for my benefit, "Okay. Good," He got up, "Let's go, then."

An excited murmur began, and everyone got up from the table and crossed over to a large wooden chest in the corner. Jake opened it and began handing out large black sacks, which I assumed were to carry the stolen supplies in. I took one and slung it over my shoulder, copying everyone else. Then we each picked up one of the black rebel’s masks and tied them around our heads. After filling metal bottles with water from a rusty faucet (“There’s an underground spring still running through here, and a lot of the taps still work” Suki informed me) we filed out of the room, nerves and excitement so strong in the air I could almost taste it.

Andy led the way down the corridor. Others who weren’t going stepped aside for us, calling encouragement and seeming just as excited as I felt. The noise faded away as we turned down a dark, narrow corridor. The further we went, the darker it got as we left the last of the torches behind. It soon became pitch black. Suki grabbed my hand, I think to reassure me, but I wasn't scared.

Everyone stopped suddenly, and then I heard the loud noise of boots on metal. Confused, I tried to look at Suki, but then remembered the dark. The sound faded – it seemed to be going upwards. There was a heavy, grating sound above our heads and light spilled into the corridor; it illuminated a steel ladder that Andy was poised at the top of, having pushed the covering of the hole aside. He looked down at us, and grinned, the excitement clearly getting to him too, "Well," He called to us, "You coming or what?"

I grinned at Alice as one by one, we made our way up the ladder. I scaled it quickly and was just about to jump out of the hole when I hit my head, very nearly losing my balance and falling. After regaining my composure, I saw that what I had hit my head on was the bonnet of a car, propped up with a stick; the hole was inside it, where the engine normally would've been. I realized after a second that it was the old, abandoned car I had seen while trying to find the camp. I hopped out of the hole and onto the ground, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sun. It was such a weird change from dimly lit corridors.

"That's awesome," I gasped, taking a few steps back so I could see it better, "I never would've been able to find that." I couldn't believe I had just walked past the entrance to the camp without a second thought. _God, what an idiot!_

"That's kind of the whole point." CC chipped in from next to me. I shot him a mocking glare. Once the last person had climbed out into the desert, Jake covered the hole back up, put a tarp over it and let the bonnet fall closed with a _thud._

"So what now?" I asked CC as we began walking. Everyone bar me seemed to know where we were going. It was a lot warmer out here than it was underground, and my skin began to itch uncomfortably underneath the paint. I hoped it wouldn't run.

"We walk for a bit, then all eleven of us somehow pile into the Jeep we stashed and drive the rest of the way. Pretty impressive of you to walk that far without stopping." He added, shooting me a smile. I grimaced in reply to the last part, but was relieved about the Jeep. My trek from the city was an experience I didn't wish to repeat.

We walked for a little while, about thirty minutes or so. Halfway through, CC had tried to get Ashley to give him a piggyback; Ashley had refused, so CC jumped on his back anyway. We all laughed, and even though Andy had told them to stop fucking around he was chuckling too.

Eventually, we reached a large, thick patch of cacti. We all stopped, but Kier carried on walking, right into it. A faint curse word could be heard every time he pricked himself on one of the plants. After maybe a minute or two, an engine rumbled to life and the vehicle drove out of the vegetation, Kier behind the wheel. I marveled at it, would’ve spent more time looking at it had Alice not pushed me into the back. We all got in, and despite there only being four seats, eleven of us were seated securely, albeit uncomfortably. I was squashed in between Andy and a really nice guy with ginger hair who smiled at me and introduced himself as Alan; I was sat on Alice's lap, and Jake and CC were by our feet. It may have been squashed and too warm, but the mood was still jovial, adrenaline already running high.

I watched the desert go by as Kier drove, fast enough that we were making good time, but slow so that the engine wouldn’t make a lot of noise. My pulse jittered with nerves. What if something horrible happened and we got caught? _Now's not the time to be having doubts. You should've thought of that earlier, idiot._ Everyone else seemed to be relaxed enough; Andy had even lit up a cigarette. I distracted myself by watching the smoke of it, even if my nose was filled with a bitter, ashy smell.

Soon, the city was visible on the horizon. My palms began to sweat. Alan gave me an encouraging smile and patted my arm. The Jeep began to slow about three hundred meters or so away from the city; we were coming up behind a large sand dune and so were blocked from the view of anyone who might look out over the horizon.

"How fast can you run?" Andy leaned over to ask me as the Jeep stopped behind the dune. We all clambered out of the car.

I had actually only ran a few times in my life. Running in the streets was prohibited, and only the boys were taught sports in school, "Um, well–" I started uneasily.

“All clear!” Ashley, who had been scanning the city for signs of minions, called.

Andy didn't let me finish. At that moment, he gripped my waist and lifted me off the ground. I gasped, indignant and surprised, as he threw me against his shoulder, where I folded; my head and chest hung over his back, beside the large knife sheathed at his waist. After yelling to the rest of the group, they all set off at a sprint towards the city. I bounced up and down as Andy ran, the bones of his shoulder digging into my stomach awkwardly. Dizziness began to occur from dangling upside down after a while, and I kept hitting my head on the handle of the knife, which irritated me no end.

On the plus side, I had a very good view of his ass from here.

We came to a stop, shielded from view by a corrugated tin shelter. It looked as though it may have once been inhabited, but was empty now. Andy set me down on the ground, breathing heavily, and my head swam for a moment before it adjusted itself to being the right way up again. Everyone else leaned against the wall or sank to the floor, gasping for breath and taking large gulps of water from their bottles.

Andy turned back to me after he screwed the cap back onto his bottle, wiping a trickle of water from the corner of his mouth, "Sorry about that," His voice was hushed and cautious now we could be within earshot of anyone, "But you were only gonna slow us down, and that can't happen. If they see us . . . "

"We die." I finished bluntly as I re-adjusted the strap of my sack so it hung more comfortably on my shoulder.

"That's right." Andy seemed pleased that I was catching on so quickly. He pulled his mask over his eyes and I copied him. He shot me a grin before saying in a low voice, "Let's move, guys."

We moved quickly, staying low and hugging the shadows. We only crossed streets when we needed to, but otherwise used the network of alleyways in between all of the housing. Oddly, the streets seemed rather empty. Completely empty, in fact. It seemed more than a little suspect, but it was in our favour, so I wasn’t going to complain. Perhaps it was this mysterious event Jake had been talking about to Andy. Some of the others exchanged bemused looks, I noticed, but I dismissed the strange silence as I focused on the task at hand, pulse thrumming in my ears.

Nothing much had changed really, except for the fact that several more speakers had been put up, and posters were plastered to nearly every wall and pinned to every streetlight. They basically said to kill or report a rebel if you saw one, and preaching to everyone about how villainous we were. I rolled my eyes at these. But one made me, and others in our group, stare. It was a ‘wanted’ poster.

With my face slap-bang in the middle.

I could feel other’s eyes on me. Andy was in my peripheral vision; he studied me as though trying to gauge my reaction. I took a deep breath and grinned, internally worrying about how this may have affected my family. Still, we continued to move.

We stopped at one house, and Andy tested the back door that was in the alley. It was unlocked, yet seemed empty. We stopped to listen, and after confirming that indeed no one was home, entered the building silently.

After we got the things we needed from that house, we moved onto another, and then another, and another, getting closer to the centre of the city as we did. Every single house was empty of inhabitants. More noise could be heard the closer we got to the large square that was directly in the middle of this city. _They must have gathered everyone for some reason._  Something was clearly going on.

At the fifth or sixth house, we had relaxed a little, let down our guard. It became clear that no-one was home anywhere, and for whatever reason, they were all in the square. Jake and Andy seemed to be the only concerned ones, while the rest of us began to have a little fun. We had gone into the upstairs of a lavish (well, as lavish as this place would get) house that directly overlooked the square. We were in the upstairs master bedroom – CC lounged on the four-poster bed, Kier and Kellin rifled through the dresser and the girls were spraying perfume at each other and giggling. We’d near enough filled our sacks with stolen goods, when Ashley, who had been looking out of the window with a small frown creasing his forehead, turned, "Hey. Guys. Might wanna give this a look. They've gathered the whole fuckin' city."

We gathered around the window, careful to stay out of sight as we peered down onto the sun-baked square. Sure enough, there were hundreds of people crammed into the space and spilling out into the streets, all directed towards the large stone platform outside the F.E.A.R. building. There was something bulky covered with a sheet to one side of it, and a microphone in the centre. Minions were at every corner, and stood on the stage too, either side of the tall, wooden doors that lead into the building. I scanned the crowd, searching for my family but saw no sign of them.

"What's going on?" I heard Kier murmur to no-one in particular. He sounded as puzzled and intrigued as I, and probably the rest of us, felt.

The speakers crackled to life.

" _And now,"_ A different voice to the one that usually spoke the announcements drifted from the speakers, " _The Monarch will make his appearance_."

The doors opened, and the square became hushed as everyone stared at the short figure who strode up to the microphone. He was pallid as milk, with greased-back black hair that gleamed under the sun. He wore a black suit with long robes of the same hue and a golden chain around his neck, a pendant of the F.E.A.R. symbol dangling from it. I had never seen him before, but he looked like the kind of person not to be trusted. So this was the leader. An image of a serpent immediately sprung to mind when I looked at his sneering face.

He tapped the microphone with an elegant, gloved finger. The sound echoed across the square, bouncing off walls and sounding oddly loud. The square was dead silent as he scanned it.

There was a few moments of quiet, "You are probably wondering why you are all gathered here today," His smooth voice began, and I recognized it as the voice from the broadcasts. His tone was kindly, and so I immediately distrusted it.

Everyone still remained silent, watching apprehensively, "I can promise you all that you've done nothing wrong. However," The Monarch paused, adding effect, "As your generous and honest rulers, F.E.A.R. are concerned that your thoughts, once pure, are being poisoned with dangerous ideas of rebellion.

“I am sure you are aware of these outlaws of whom I speak; these so-called 'Wild Ones',  who claim that their brave new world is upon us. But do not be fooled by the chicanery with which they lay their claim. It is false, and their uprising will _not_ succeed. You will continue to place your trust in F.E.A.R., or face the unfortunate fate of those who attempt to defy us," A pause. I felt myself trembling; from rage or anxiety I didn’t know, "Today you will be shown what becomes of these villains. And you will understand that _no-one_ will rebel against our divine purpose and get away with it." He turned his head slightly towards the minions who stood behind him, and gave a nod.

They opened the doors again, and out came another two minions, only they were dragging someone between them. A deep feeling of unease made itself know in my stomach – I glanced at the rest of the group, but their eyes were fixed on the scene below us.

The person was a prisoner of F.E.A.R.; they were thin and dirty, wearing ripped, filthy clothes and sporting a grubby brown sack over their head that obscured their face. I saw from the figure's build as they were dragged to the front of the stage that they were female. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly with rope, nasty purple marks underneath from chafing. The crowd broke out into a anxious murmur.

I looked at my companions again and caught Suki's eye, who gave me an alarmed and confused look. Her eyes said, _what the hell is going on?_

The woman was pushed to her knees to the side of The Monarch, who didn’t even glance down as he focused his attention back on the crowd. He began to smirk, "This is a message to The Wild Ones," His voice was louder as he strived to be heard over the crowd, "Give up now. Your efforts are wasted; you will only die a dream forgotten. You may think that your forces are stronger than ours, that you can overcome us. You're _wrong._ And today, this will be proved to you, and every single person here today will be reminded of the consequences of defiance against F.E.A.R.!" He was yelling now, slightly manic looking. There was silence once more. He cleared his throat and took a moment to compose himself, smoothing his hair back. The silence that now filled the air was unnatural; if I had even whispered, I felt as though they probably would have heard it. Everyone was far too afraid and enraptured to make a sound. A baby's wailing was quickly hushed.

The Monarch gave another nod to a minion, who stepped forwards and pulled the cover off the large object to the side of the stage. The cloth fell to the ground with a soft _whump_ , and a collective gasp of shock and horror echoed throughout the square. Someone screamed.

_Oh. My. God. They're not serious, are they? In front of everyone?_ I began to feel nauseous. The crowd began to murmur in unease. The sound of sobbing drifted up to the window.

It was a gallows.

"Shit," Andy, who was standing near me, breathed. He stared in dismay as the girl was dragged over to the wooden structure. I looked up at him, noticing a strange look in his eyes. Like he had figured something out that none of us had. As though feeling my gaze, his eyes flickered to mine for a brief second, then looked at Jake, who was at the front of the group and watching the scene intently. Suddenly, I worked it out and suppressed a horrified gasp.

_She went out into the desert alone one day and never came back. We don't know what happened to her._

The sack was pulled from the girl's head, and long dark hair spilled out across her shoulders. Her pretty eyes were agonized, her once beautiful face drained and gaunt. Smudges that looked a lot like old, faded black paint could still be seen on her face.

Jake sucked in a shocked breath as he stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief and horror.

" _Ella._ " He whispered.

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

There was a horrible silence in which all eleven of us turned to stare at Jake, who had gone ghostly pale, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from Ella being dragged up steps to the gallows. He appeared to be having difficulty breathing.

Several things happen at once.

She looked up. I wasn't sure, but it looked like she saw us. Her eyes seemed to lock with Jake's.

He took a deep breath, as if to yell.

Andy tackled him to the ground, covering Jake's mouth, muffling the shout of, ' _Ella!_

Everyone jumped back, making room as they wrestled on the ground for a few moments.

Andy hissed at him lividly, "Are you _crazy_?!"

Jake jerked his head away from Andy's hand and glared murderously while struggling furiously in his grip, "Let me go!"

"Jake, listen to m—” Jake abruptly cut off Andy's sentence by kicking him in the stomach and jumping up while Andy keeled over, but Andy quickly scrambled back to his feet and grabbed Jake again, this time with the aid of Ashley.

"They've got her! They've got Ella!" He protested frantically, the exertion showing on his face as he tried to free himself from their grasp. He was livid and desperate, eyes glowing fiercely.

"I know, Jake, and I understand, but you need to try and focus so we can figure out what to do." Andy's deep voice was fairly calm, but his face too showed the effort of containing Jake.

"No!" Jake shoved the arm Andy had across his torso away, and stabbed an accusing finger in his direction. Even though their voices were hushed, his hiss still managed to stab like a yell, "You don't understand a fucking _thing,_ Andy; you don't have anyone you need or love or care about! You don't know what it's like, you’ve never had anything as real in your life!”

I watched Andy. Something flickered in his eyes for the briefest second, something like hurt and shock, but he quickly recovered and his expression became one of anger, eyes turning icy as he narrowed them. He stepped forwards into Jake's personal space and squared his shoulders.

"Listen, Jake,” his voice had turned deadly soft, “I know who I am, and what I 'understand'. I also know that I'm the _leader._ It's alright for _you,_ " He practically spat the last word, jabbing Jake in the chest with his index finger, "You just want to protect the girl you love. But me? I gotta protect every single person in the fucking Legion. Everyone back in that camp, and here in this room, they all depend on me," His voice held a ferocity to match Jake's own anger.

Everyone remained silent, watching the two men with wide eyes.

His expression softened a little, but his look was still steely, "I know how much you love Ella, and I respect that. I really do. But you're putting your personal life first, and you can't do that: we really can't afford that. And believe it or not, as harsh as this sounds, she is not my priority at this moment in time. My fucking _priority_ is getting everyone out of here alive. And that isn't gonna happen if you go yelling so the minions can come and capture us, too!"

The fury on Jake's face had faded a little, leaving guilt and despair in its place. It was clear he knew himself that everything Andy had just said was true. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he remained silent.

Andy sighed heavily, and placed a hand on Jake's shoulder, "I'm not heartless, Jake. I'm just doing what I have to. There's absolutely nothing that can be done about this. It's too late for her. I'm so sorry, brother."

Jake swallowed thickly, and looked back up at him, "It's fine," His voice wavered, "I mean, she was always dead, right? Should never have gotten my hopes up. Sorry."

"Don't be." Andy was sympathetic, but Jake was already turning away, pulling his mask back on and grabbing his bag with controlled, mechanic movements. After a pause and a helpless look at the rest of us, Andy copied him. We did the same, and headed out of the door, Jake being the one to lead the group this time.

We went out of the back door, the way we had come, and crossed an alley that allowed us a view of the square. Thankfully, The Monarch was still talking and people were too distressed to notice the shadows in the alley, so no one saw us.

"Don't look." Kier whispered to me, referring to the stage. I didn't want to. I could picture Ella's body hanging lifeless all too clearly and felt sick to my stomach. The wave of hate I felt towards F.E.A.R. now was ten times what I had felt before. They were just pure _evil._ How could anyone still believe in them?

The mood on the way back was somber; the raid had lost its fun. Even CC, Suki and Ashley, who were almost always witty and animated were walking along with their heads bowed, shooting Jake sympathizing looks and murmuring softly to each other. I hung back, at the rear of the group, fighting angry tears. It was just so unfair. So horrible. So cruel.

Nobody talked the whole way back, just walking and sitting in the Jeep in silence. I wanted to say, do anything to break the tension or make Jake feel a little better, but I had never been in this position before and didn't know what to do.

As soon as Jake's feet hit the floor after descending the ladder, he ripped his mask from his face and was off, striding at running pace down the corridor, head bowed so his face was hidden from view. People who had been walking jumped aside, watching him go with puzzled expressions. In a split second decision I knew I would probably regret, I ran after him.

He disappeared up one corridor lined with rooms and disappeared, so I followed. I wasn't sure which room was his until I stopped outside the one with duct-taped cardboard serving as a door, with the number '56' on it. I stopped because I heard muffled, broken, sobs coming from inside.

"Jake?" I called softly, hovering unsurely outside the door.

The sobs abruptly stopped, "Go away." Came the faint groan.

Ignoring this, I pushed the cardboard to the side slightly and peered into the dark room. He was lying on his mattress, face pressed into his pillow. He hadn't taken his war paint off and the off-white fabric was smudged. His head lifted and looked at me. Through his hair, I saw that his expression was bleak, and the skin around his eyes red and puffy. There was a small, flat square on the mattress next to him. It was a photograph. I took a hesitant step into the room. He didn't stop me. Then another.

I sat down carefully beside him. Still he remained silent. After a pause I gently picked up the photo and looked at it. It was faded and crinkled. The picture had been taken out in the desert, the sun shining down on the happy, young couple with their arms around each other. Jake looked younger, maybe in his late teens or early twenties, his hair shorter and his eyes happier. He was looking down at the girl beside him. Ella. She was pulling a silly face at the camera, but even with her tongue poking out and her face screwed up it was clear she was still beautiful. Her dark hair was in a braid, with a white fabric rose stuck behind her ear. It broke my heart to see how content they had once been, and now everything was destroyed. This girl wouldn't pull any more stupid faces at the camera or wear anymore flowers in her hair. This man would never look at anyone else with the same shining love in his eyes.

"Jake . . . " I sighed, not sure how I should comfort him. Looking up from the photo, I saw him watching me, expressionless, "I'm so sorry, Jake."

"Why?" His tone was blunt, "You weren't the one to hang her."

I swallowed, struggling to think of ways to answer that, "I don't . . . I don't know. Actually, why do people even say sorry when someone's died?" I was talking to myself more than to him, now, "It's not like they can turn back time or anything. Not like it's their fault. God, I'm sorry. I'm not good at this comforting stuff. No one I know has ever died. I don't know how it feels."

He looked away, and I followed his gaze to a small, rickety chest of drawers in the corner of the small room. On top of them was the fabric rose. The petals were fraying and discoloured. He returned his gaze to me, and spoke after a few moments, "You want to know how it feels, huh?"

He didn't wait for me to answer, "It's like . . . like a scar I thought had healed but has opened up again, and it's worse than before. It's like I've been punched in the stomach, over and over again. I feel sick. I don't want to get used to it. I can't get used to it," He seemed uneasy at first, but once he started talking everything else just seemed to spill out, "Everybody else already thought she was dead, when she disappeared, but I couldn't accept it, y'know? I had always hoped one day she'd come back to me. These things happen sometimes. I just wanted it to be true so badly I failed to see the reality of it. And now she's never coming back," His voice faltered momentarily, but he swallowed and continued, "I can't . . . when she first disappeared, I thought my grief couldn't get any worse, but _this,_ this is torture. I keep looking back and seeing ways I could've saved her. I should've realized it was her sooner and acted. Maybe she'd still be alive. But instead I watched the girl I love die and I stood and did _nothing._ " His voice was full of self-loathing.

"Jake, don't you dare beat yourself up about it. There really was nothing you, or anyone else could've done. Did you see how many minions there were? They would've killed all of us before you could even reach the stage. Ella was going to die, either way. Sorry," I added, when he flinched at the last part.

He swallowed, looking down, then back up, "I . . . I guess," Then another heavy sigh, "If you don't mind, Mallory. . . I'd rather be alone right now. But thank you for talking to me."

"Oh, sure. And you're welcome," I replied as I got up. He didn't reply, only pressed his face back into the pillow as though I wasn't there. I left quickly, not wanting to intrude any more.

My heart felt heavy with sympathy. _Poor Jake._ I hated not knowing how to help him. It frustrated me to see people upset, especially when there was nothing I could do about it.

I ran a hand through my straggly hair. What a grim day. The events of the past few hours hadn't upset me as much as everyone else here, because I didn't know Ella, but it had still been pretty awful to see. If anything, her death had been fuel for the fire inside me, the determination to bring F.E.A.R. down burning even brighter. A new determination inside me, I decided that I would go and find one of the council to maybe discuss the rebels' next move. I set off down the corridor with a purposeful stride. It was pretty empty; the news of Ella's death had travelled fast and most were mourning.

There was a long, thin crack running down the ceiling of the corridor, showing the desert sky and allowing light to spill into the murky caves. From the golden tone of it, I guessed that the sun was setting right about now. Suddenly, I heard a soft giggle from a room I was just about to pass. I didn't think anything of it until a hand shot out, grabbed my arm and pulled me past the curtain and into the small chamber.

The first thing I noticed was the odd, sweet smell. Then as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw Suki, CC, Ashley, Kier, and two other guys I didn't recognize, all huddled in a small circle. Suki had been the one to pull me into the room, and she had a strange glint in her eyes. CC gave another high-pitched giggle.

"Um, what's going on?" I asked, bewildered, as they all grinned at me mischievously.

Suki collapsed into CC's lap in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. I looked around the circle, bewildered.

Ashley was asleep, snoring softly with his head on Kier's leg, who grinned at me. His smile didn't look one hundred percent lucid and his eyes were quite red.

The guy with the messy, sandy hair and blue eyes nodded lazily at me, "'Sup? I'm Danny," He had an accent similar to Kier's, only his was rougher, slightly less cultivated, "And this is Vic," He gestured to the guy who sat next to him, who had shoulder-length brown hair and a dark tan. He held something between his fingers. I didn't know what it was. It looked a little like a cigarette, only with a more pungent scent. Vic took a drag on it before passing it to Danny. A few seconds later, the grin was wiped off Vic's face, and he lunged towards the back of the room, only to throw up. I wrinkled my nose. Everyone else groaned and yelled, " _Vic!_ _”_

CC was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face. Danny seemed to be the most sane, so I directed my question at him, "I'll ask again: What's going on?"

He glanced up at me again; the tone of his voice was vaguely patronizing, "This is a magical substance called marijuana. We're getting high. Wanna join in?"

I vaguely recognized the word. Despite F.E.A.R. controlling the city, there were some things that they couldn't put a stop to. Like the secret black market, taboo and unspoken about, where people traded forbidden items, such as drugs and alcohol, desperate for their fix. Like the whispers of doubt that so many exchanged out of F.E.A.R.'s earshot, wondering if the rebels were onto something. Like the things that went on in dark alleyways and behind the school building. I wasn't naive, but I had stayed away from all of that stuff, for the most part. I knew it could only lead to trouble.

I had heard these things weren't safe, but it seemed to make everyone else happy. Anyway, I had already experienced enough danger to last a lifetime, so what was one more thing on the list?

Besides, with Ella and Jake still heavy on my mind, I could use it. So I shrugged and sat down in between Kier and Suki, shoving Ashley's legs out of my way, "Sure."

Danny passed me the joint, "Take a deep breath in. Make sure you inhale it properly."

I did.

~*~                                                      

A few hits, everything was fuzzy. The room spun whenever I moved my head. It made me feel a little nauseous, but it was funny. I understood now why Suki and CC were laughing. There were rainbows in the air. Everything was very loud, the sounds hitting my ears. I frowned, and tried to put my hands over my ears, but I missed and accidentally punched myself in the side of the face. CC pointed at me and roared with laughter before collapsing on the floor again. After a second try I succeeded. The sounds faded a little. It sounded like I was underwater.

"My head huuuuurts." I heard myself say. Was that really me? My voice sounded too high-pitched and slow.

Danny turned his head then. Towards where I thought the doorway might be, but I couldn't remember. "Oh, shit," He muttered. His voice sounded strange, too low. I chuckled.

Suddenly there was light. It hit my eyes blindingly. I squinted, and whined, "Owwwwww."

A deep voice I vaguely recognized, "Danny, what the fuck is that sme– oh, for fuck’s sake!"

I lost my balance then, and _oops,_ I was falling. My head hit the floor but weirdly it didn't hurt. I looked up and after a moment of my blurry vision adjusting, I recognized Andy, standing in the doorway, towering over us. His eyes were midnight in the dark, but they still glittered. Like stars. Pretty stars. And they would've been even prettier if his expression wasn’t so murderous.

"Danny, where did you get that?" He demanded. He stormed across the room and grabbed the joint out of Kier's hand, who protested, but Andy ignored him, dropping it to the floor the proceeding to crush it forcefully with the heel of his black boot. Then he turned on Danny, "Well?"

Danny looked as though he had to think about it. Then, "Kier got it for me. Someone in the city was growing it in their basement."

Andy sighed heavily, "I thought you guys'd know better than to bring drugs back to camp by now. You know it affects everyone's training, and we don't have time to waste. You're all a bunch of idiots." He glared at each person, but not at me. Why? He didn't even look at me. Why was that?

"It . . . ," Suki was still gasping after her last laughing fit, but she managed to sit up and say, "It's better than . . . than sitting around crying . . . over Ella. We're just trying to have fun."

"I know you're all upset over what happened today, as am I, but really, you sh—" He broke off. I glanced up, wondering why he had. His eyes were locked on me, like he'd only just spotted me lying on the floor by his feet. I gave him a small wave and chuckled to myself again.

If his expression had been murderous before, it was lethal now.

"Are you _insane_?" Andy snarled. Everyone flinched, "She's sixteen, for fuck's sake! Who knows what sort of damage it could do to her brain?" Ashley woke up then, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he sat up. CC burst out laughing again. Andy's enraged face became even angrier, if that seemed possible, "And you two! You're supposed to be the _responsible_ ones!"

"Chill out, Andy," Ashley murmured sleepily, before closing his eyes and leaning on Kier again, "It's just weed."

"Yeah," Danny added smugly, "Stop being so damn serious all the time."

"If I wasn't, this whole place would fall apart! _Someone's_ gotta be sensible. Whatever," He sighed, exasperated and weary, "I'm done with this shit. You guys just do whatever the fuck you want. I don't need this shit right now."

It seemed Andy's rant was over. I tried to sit up and rejoin the circle, but suddenly he grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet, "Not you. You're coming with me."

"Whuu . . . " I tried to ask him why, but suddenly began feeling drowsy. My knees seemed to turn to jelly as soon as I stepped out of the room, and I collapsed to the floor again.

"Tired?" Andy looked down at me from where I lay in a crumpled heap on the floor with a half-bemused, half-furious expression on his face. I made a faint 'unghh' sound before closing my suddenly heavy eyelids. _Go away,_ I thought.

"Oh, no you don't," I was airborne suddenly. My eyelids flew open only for a wave of vertigo to hit me as soon as I did. I groaned. After it had passed I saw that Andy had lifted me up and was now carrying me down the corridor in his arms, "You can't sleep in the hallway."

I didn't respond, but yawned. It was really weird how tired I had suddenly become. Guess it was a side effect of the 'weed', as Danny had called it. Looking up at Andy, I noticed his face seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the torches, and his eyes were luminous. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that it was my eyes playing tricks on me, another of the side affects of the marijuana, but my mind was hazy and my thoughts were slow and disconnected, not really forming coherently.

"You're so pretty," I whispered to him, reaching up to poke his pale, glittery cheek. The word sounded funny to my ears. I giggled, "Preeeeeettttyyyyyy."

He rolled his eyes, a smile creeping onto his face, "And you're so stoned."

This seemed hilarious to me, and I burst out laughing as my head lolled back so everything I saw was upside down.

" _Woah_ , what happened?" A voice from in front of us asked. I turned my head to the side to see Jinxx walking the opposite way, concerned eyes trained on me.

Andy came to a stop. I was now facing a skull that sat in a hollow in the wall. I pulled faces at it, laughing to myself. He sighed, "Found Danny and the rest of them getting high just now. They let Mallory try some and now she's completely stoned – as you can see."

"God, again? I thought you told Danny not to bring back any more pot."

"Well, as far as he's concerned, it doesn't count when he gets Kier to do his dirty work for him." I could practically hear Andy rolling his eyes.

Jinxx make a disapproving sound, "Typical. Ah, well," He sighed, "D'you know where CC is? I need to talk to him."

Andy shrugged, the motion of it making me bob up and down, "Still getting high, I'd imagine."

"What? I thought you said you'd sorted it,” there was a slight tinge of accusation in Jinxx's tone. I glanced up now to see him frowning at Andy.

"Hey, I figured it'd be easier to let them do what they want. It's their fault if they feel shitty tomorrow. I've had a really fucking long day, so I really don't need—” Andy's voice started to rise defensively, and Jinxx placed a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

"Andy, it's fine," His tone was soothing, "I know it's been a shitty day. I'll go sort them out. Just chill. I'll see you later." Jinxx nodded before heading off down the corridor the way we had come.

Andy sighed as he watched him leave. Then he continued down the corridor, not looking down at me again, his mouth set in a hard line as he stared straight ahead. Even though I was completely out of my brains, and my vision was fuzzy, the stress was still evident on his features.

He said something after a few moments had passed, but I had drifted off into another daydream and didn't hear it properly, "Mmm?"

"I said, what number's yours?" He stood at the top of the corridor that branched out into all the narrow hallways that led to the sleeping chambers. I remember Ashley telling me this place used to be an underground prison, and I guessed that these small rooms used to be cells. Suddenly, I remembered Andy was waiting for an answer. But I couldn't remember. _What? What's wrong . . . with me? I  . . .  knew it earlier. Why can't . . . I remember . . . ?_

I frowned to myself, "I don't . . . I don't know . . . "

Andy sighed irritably, but said nothing else. Instead, he turned and began striding the way we had just came. _What . . . ? Where's . . . he taking me?_

A few more minutes of walking in silence later and we stopped outside the doors of the meeting room.I was more confused than ever now. Shifting me to his shoulder so he had a free hand, Andy dragged the door open. I was very impressed by this. He was wiry and lean, but was able to both carry me and drag that huge sheet of metal out of his way, and I knew just how heavy it was.

I told him, "You must work ooout."

"Yup," He replied crisply before entering the room and replacing the door.

There was a silence for a few seconds.

"What a great conversationalist you are," I commented. I laughed, “That’s a weird word, huh? Converrrrsaaationalissst.” He ignored me.

Andy crossed the room and went over to a door in the corner which I hadn't noticed before. It was an actual door, made from dark wood with a black handle and a lock, not one of the makeshift ones that were over the rest of the doorways.

The room on the other side was a little smaller than the meeting room, and rather than a thin mattress on the floor, like the rest of us had, there was an actual bed, made from dark wood similar to the door and also a lot bigger. There was an old chest of drawers with a small stack of books on top, a black mask and a thick notebook. In the other corner was a desk, with a chair.

"This . . . your room?" I asked.

"No," His voice dripped with sarcasm, "I just thought, hey, why not walk into some random person's bedroom?"

"Shut up,” I tried to say, but it came out 'shurruppp', "It's fancy," I nodded towards the bed, "I guess being the leader of this whole thing comes with benefits."

I wasn't sure, but I thought his cheeks turned a little pink, "It's not that I'm– no, this used to be my parents' room. Made sense for me to move in," He cleared his throat, "Well, seeing as you've somehow managed to forget where _your_ room is, you might as well sleep in here for now. You'll need the rest. You're starting training tomorrow."

"Oh, joy unbounded,” I muttered as he set me down on the mattress.

Despite my drowsy and unfocused state, something occurred to me, "Andy, where are your parents? You said this room used to belong to them. But where are they?"

“Not here.”

“Yeah, but where?”

In a voice a few degrees colder than it was before, "Haven't you heard that it's not polite to ask?"

I ignored this, "Where are they? Actually, where are _anybody's_ parents? The oldest person here can't be much over 30."

"Don't ask questions, Mallory. Please," He added, seemingly as an afterthought.

I sat up and stared him down unrelentingly, "What happened to all the adults, Andy?"

"Just leave it." He clenched his fists, obviously uncomfortable.

"Why won't you tell me? Have you got something to hide?" I carried on pressuring him.

"Because I don't want to!" He glared, "And don't try asking anyone else. They sure as hell won't tell you."

"Why, though?" I couldn't curb my curiosity, "Also, what did Jake mean in the city when he said that yo—”

""Oh my _God,_ " He sat down next to me, and crumpled forwards, his head in his hands, "Just _shut up,_ would you? It's none of your business.

“I asked you really nicely to leave it, Mallory," He looked up to glare at me some more, "It's not secret man-code for 'keep asking me until I change my answer'. It means I don't want to talk about it. With you or anybody," He sighed, then after a few moments his expression softened a little. The shouting was making my already fuzzy head hurt even more, and my fingertips were pressed to my temples, "It's not personal. I just really don't want to discuss it."

I wanted to ask why, but didn't want to piss him off any further. Shouting was making me even more tired. My head throbbed painfully, and I winced.

"Hey," Andy's voice was very soft now. His hands reached up to pull my hands away from my head, mistaking my headache for being upset, "I'm not mad. Just tired. And so are you. Get some rest." He held my gaze then, long enough for my heart to stutter as he stared with his luminous eyes. He looked as though he was searching my eyes for something; the kindness was replaced with some sort of calculating expression.

Seemingly giving up, he stood and after a hesitation, turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

I sighed to myself then, and flopped back onto the soft mattress that my body immediately sank into. I understood why Andy might feel embarrassed about having a much better room than everyone else now, but guessed that he probably secretly enjoyed it.

The mystery that had occurred to me was playing through my mind. Why were there no adults? Why was Andy so unwilling to talk about it? And why had his face turned pink when I started to ask him about what Jake had said to him? _You don't know what it's like, you_ _’_ _ve never had anything as real in your life!_

Whatever. I'd figure it out tomorrow. Right now, sleep was beckoning me. I kicked my boots off and slid under the covers that smelled like Andy. I yawned blissfully. Just as I was about to drift off, my eyes focused on something on the wall I was facing. A sheet of paper there, or several. Numbers were crossed off. It was a calendar.

I realized, with shock, that it was New Year's Eve tomorrow.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke abruptly from my heavy, dreamless sleep, groggy and disoriented. I was still lying in Andy's bed, curled into an uncomfortable position where my arm was trapped underneath my torso and my neck bent at an awkward angle. I opened my eyes, blinking, then turned so I was lying on my back, freeing my dead arm. From the sliver of sky that was visible through a long, narrow crack in the stone ceiling, I guessed it was early morning.

Pain shot through my neck as I sat up, rubbing the grit from my eyes. I winced. My head felt horrible, like someone had slammed their fist against my forehead repeatedly. I guessed it was an after-effect of the marijuana. Sighing and rubbing my sore head, I looked around the room. There were no signs of anyone else being in here, except for the fact that the boots I had been wearing had been unlaced and placed neatly at the foot of the bed, side-by-side, and a ratty blanket that was beige in colour and perforated with holes had been thrown over me while I was asleep. I kicked it aside as I retrieved my boots, pulled them back on and stood. My joints made a popping sound as I stretched.

Then, catching sight of my reflection in a dusty mirror that was hung on the wall by a nail driven between two sections of rock, I groaned.

My hair was _seriously_ ruffled, sticking up at angles I didn't think gravity allowed, and the warpaint Alice had so artfully applied yesterday was smudged messily across my face so it looked like I had gotten into a fight with a chimney.

There was a small basin attached to the wall underneath the mirror, as there was in most of the rooms. I immediately made use of it, scrubbing at my black face with the flannel and combing my hair as best as I could with my fingers. On final inspection, I decided I looked vaguely presentable. Yet there was nothing I could do to erase the shadows from under my eyes or get rid of the haggard look in them. I sighed to myself before turning and going out of the door.

To my surprise, the meeting room was occupied. I hadn't heard voices, but Andy was lounging on a chair and smoking a cigarette as he regarded Alice and Sammi, who were stood next to him and talking animatedly. Alice's short, chocolate coloured hair was tied into little pigtails, and she wore black jeans and a red cropped t-shirt which showed off her tanned stomach and rib tattoos. Sammi was dressed in a lacy gray camisole and a black skirt. They all looked up at me as I entered.

"Hey, stoner," Andy was the first to address me, looking amused as he tapped his cigarette against the side of a small dish on the table in front of him, "Sleep well?"

"Like a choir of angels sung me into unconsciousness,” I replied, then pressed my fingertips to my temples as my head throbbed painfully, "Ugh."

The three all exchanged knowing smirks. "Well, I think it's safe to say that you've learnt your lesson,” Alice nodded as I groaned at the pain.

"You bet. So what're you talking about?"                                                       

"We're trying to get Andy to let us have a New Year's Eve party!" Sammi told me, "But he's saying no." She scowled at him. He rolled his eyes as he exhaled a stream of pale smoke.

I turned to him, "Why not?"

"There's no point. It won't achieve anything. Besides, we're _days_ behind on our training, and everyone's been slacking, so there's, like, one hundred and one things that need doing." He scowled at the bowl full of cigarette ash as though it were the source of all his problems.

"Don't be so grumpy," Alice poked his shoulder reproachfully, "It'll be fun. We could use some fun, what with the stuff that happened yesterday," Her expression sobered for a moment, "You need to stop being so serious all the time."

"If I wasn't—"

"Yeah, yeah," She waved a slim, olive-skinned hand in his direction dismissively, "This whole place would fall apart and all that crap. We're allowed to relax once in a while. It's not all training, chores, fighting, repeat. Right Mal?" She turned to me for support.

I nodded, smiling smugly at Andy, who sighed and muttered, " _Women_."

Then, in his normal voice, said, "I don't kn—"

"Jinxx, help us out here?" Sammi flung the question at Jinxx, who had just entered the room, eating a sandwich. He came up behind her and wound his arms around her waist, chin resting on her slim shoulder, "We're trying to convince grumpy bastard here to let us have a party for New Year's."

Jinxx finished chewing the mouthful of bread, then swallowed before answering. He smiled serenely at Andy, "I don't see what harm it'd do."

Andy glowered at him and muttered something that sounded like 'traitor' under his breath. Just as he was opening his mouth to reply, Jake and another guy with shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes thickly rimmed with black entered the room. To say I was surprised to see Jake was an understatement. I had expected him to still be doing his hermit impression in his room, but here he was, eyes still swollen slightly and a new, hard look on his face that I wasn't sure I fully trusted.

The guy I didn't know spoke, "Hey Andy, Jake and I were thinking that in training today we could maybe—”

"Hang on a sec, Ronnie," Andy told the guy, holding up his palm before jerking his head towards us, "One conversation at a time. My brain can't cope before nine in the morning."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. What are you talking about?"

"These idiots want a New Year's party." Andy rolled his eyes as he stubbed his cigarette out into the bowl before lighting another from the pack at his elbow. I watched the way his long, graceful fingers moved with practice and expertise.

"What's the point of that?" Jake asked, voice a little flat, striving for normality and just failing. It was obvious he was still mourning, and I felt that his pessimism was related to his grief.

"Exactly!" Andy grinned triumphantly, shooting us a look, "See, _someone_ agrees with m—”

Kier and a tall, slightly chubby guy with a sweep of black hair burst into the room, hand in hand.

"Andy!" The chubby guy cried excitedly, "Great news!" He had the same accent as Kier.

"Well, it'll have to wait a minute, I'm busy." Andy's tone was slightly more clipped this time, looking distinctly disgruntled as his dark eyebrows knitted together. Everyone then took this as their cue to get his attention, and started speaking all at once.

"Like I was saying, a party would be—”Alice burst out.

Ronnie frowned, "We need to focus on our training. We should work on—"

"Danny's managed to—" Chubby Guy continued anyway.

"I don't see why you're so freaking opposed to—”

"Most aren't very skilled with the—”

"Remember how we were able to—”

Andy glanced helplessly between all of them. The noise was rising rapidly as their voices got louder in order to be heard over one another. Kier, Sammi and Jinxx started up a conversation, which only added to the noise. Andy looked despairing. I couldn't help but smile at the comical scene.

Alice was starting to get annoyed, "It's just a party, for fu—"

"—bows and arrows, and I think that we sho—"

"F.E.A.R.—"

Andy pressed his fingertips to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, then roared, "Everyone _shut the fuck up_!"

They all fell silent.

"Right," Andy began, looking at each of us in turn as he brushed a piece of lint from the front of his black tank, "I—"

The steel sheet in the doorway moved aside again with a low groan.

"Jesus Christ!" Andy exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

"Actually," Danny said, "It's just me. Though I've been told there's a striking resemblance," He shoved the 'door' back into place behind him as he stepped through.

Andy slowly lowered his head and hit it against the wooden surface of the table with a _thump._ Then, sitting back up, pointed at Ronnie and Jake. His voice sounded strained, like he was about to snap, "What do you two want?"

"I was saying that in training today, we should work on archery. It's a weak point, and Jake agreed that we need all the skills we can learn if F.E.A.R. are building up their armies," Ronnie's tone was bossy, businesslike; there was something about it and the set to his shoulders that made me think that he felt that he ought to be in charge.

Andy nodded thoughtfully as he took another deep drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing bright orange as he did, "Noted. Laurence?"

"I-I just came to tell you that D-Danny's been able to um, override F.E.A.R.'s systems again. We thought w-we could do another broadcast, maybe . . . ?" Laurence trailed off anxiously, eyes wide. I saw Kier's hand move as it squeezed Laurence's in reassurance.

Andy looked vaguely surprised and pleased at the good news, "Awesome," He was serious again, "Okay; in that case, why're you here, Danny?"

"Me?" Danny had strolled across the room to stand on Andy's other side, "I just came to bum a smoke," He swiped up the pack and took one of Andy's cigarettes. Andy rolled his eyes as if to say _typical_ , but otherwise didn't seem to be particularly bothered.

Sammi cleared her throat, annoyed, tapping her foot against the floor impatiently, "Well, gentlemen, this is all very fascinating, but what about the party?"

"Party?" Danny perked up instantly, "What party?"

"For the last fucking time, we are _not_ _—_ _"_

"I like the idea of a party," Danny's grin was rather catlike.

Kier bobbed his head enthusiastically in agreement, "Me too. We could use it. I'm sure everyone else will be up for it," After an elbow in the ribs from Kier, Laurence nodded too.

We all looked at Andy expectantly. I could see him caving, slowly but surely.

Eventually, he snapped, "Fine," He growled, "Fine. We'll have a fucking party. But only if we train and work all day first," He added as Ronnie opened his mouth to protest, "And if I see anyone – _anyone_ _–_ slacking," he looked long and hard at Danny, who pretended not to notice, "it's not happening. Spread the word."

Alice nodded, the excitement sparkling in her dark eyes, "Sure, sure." It was at that moment I realized my hands were balled up into fists. I was anxious that someone would now say something wrong, push Andy too far – he seemed _super_ stressed.

 _What do you care, Mallory; what's his anxieties to you?_ I slowly unfurled my fingers and let my hands hang loosely at my sides.

"Now piss off, all of you," Andy looked back up, glaring, still managing to look fierce despite the weary expression and the cigarette hanging from his lips. It may have made anyone else look gormless, but with Andy and the way he looked, his eyes glowing angrily and his high cheekbones casting shadows across his pale face in the light of the torches, it only added to the hardass image. I saw that he was worrying his lighter distractedly in his hands, flicking the top so a flame sparked, then disappeared, over and over again.

"Laters," Danny shrugged, the first to break the unsure silence that followed, and paused only to pluck Andy's lighter from his hands, light his own cigarette and leave, leaving only a cloud of fumes in his wake. Everyone followed after a pause, slowly trickling out of the room.

Alice and Sammi turned to leave, beckoning for me to follow them. I gestured for them to go on without me, before hesitating a few feet away from Andy. He was slumped in his chair, cigarette hanging limp and forgotten from between his index and middle fingers, staring past the table with a crease between his eyebrows. He looked very much as though he was thinking hard about something. I wondered just how much stress he was actually under.

"Uh . . . you okay?" I ventured.

He blinked, then looked up as though he'd only just noticed I was there, like he was snapping out of a trance. "Yeah," He said after the briefest of pauses, "I'm good.”

I paused.

“Is there something you need?” though his voice sounded patient, I could see from his expression it took some effort.

“Um . . .” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Where did you sleep last night? 'Cause . . . you know, I--”

Thankfully, he cut me off, “I took the floor.” His vivid blue eyes flicked away for a few moments, then back to me. “Why do you ask?”

“Just . . . just wondering.” _Oh, real smooth, Mal._ I could feel my face begin to heat up. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

I nodded dumbly, as awkward as ever, then flushed when I realized he was waiting patiently for me to leave and I was standing there like an idiot.

After a last shy smile, I hurriedly made my exit. A glance back through the doorway as I shoved the metal into place allowed me to see that he was watching me leave with an unreadable expression on his face. For some reason, it made my heart do an anxious little somersault.

Alice and Sammi had waited for me out in the corridor; I could only pray that they hadn't heard that awkward exchange. We walked in silence down the corridor for a few paces, until in my peripheral vision I saw Alice and Sammi exchange a look, smirks tugging at the corners of their mouths.

"What?" I asked, looking in bewilderment from one to the other. We stopped walking, and I suddenly found myself standing with my back facing the wall, both of them standing in front of me with their arms folded across their chests in a confrontational stance. _Uh-oh._

Alice was the first to speak, a sly grin twisting her mouth. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief for a fraction of a second, thankful I wasn't in trouble or anything, relaxing until she spoke, "What the hell was _that_ all about?"

I frowned back at her, not having the slightest clue what she was talking about, "Huh?"

Sammi nudged my shoulder with hers, eyes flashing wickedly, "I think you know." They both looked at me expectantly.

I gave her my best _what-the-fuck_ look, "I really don't."

They looked at each other again, and then Alice turned back to me and explained, "We mean, what were you doing in Andy's bedroom? Overnight?" She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

For a moment I didn't get it. Then I did. A flush began to creep up my neck and spread across my cheeks, “Oh my God, you don’t actually think—seriously, it’s not what it looked like!" I blurted, panicking. _Wrong thing to say_ _–_ _I've made it look like I'm lying. Great_. I knew I had gone bright red.

"Is that so?" Sammi's grin stretched even wider, "Because it's almost always _exactly_ what it looks like."

"Really, it wasn—"

Alice clicked her tongue, then leaned towards me conspiratorially, not giving me the chance to finish what I was saying, "How'd it even happen? You've only been here a few days; and you're so _young_. I didn’t think Andy was the type to—"

"B-but—" I protested, flustered.

"It's alright to admit it, you know," Sammi's voice had a note of kindness, misinterpreting my embarrassment, "We won't tell anyone. You shouldn't be embarrassed anyway. Andy's pretty hot." She grinned devilishly.

"You're married," Alice pointed out.

Sammi shrugged, holding her hands up, palms facing outwards, "Hey, it was just a general observation. But he is. Right, Mal?" She winked at me.

I opened my mouth again, but Alice wrinkled her nose and said, "Meh. He's not my cup of tea. Too pretty, and really skinn—"

"I didn't sleep with him!" I interrupted, my patience wearing thin. My voice was loud enough that a group of passing guys, including Vic and Kellin, gave us weird looks as they walked by.

I waited until they were out of earshot before speaking again, "When I was . . .  intoxicated yesterday, I couldn't remember where my room was, so Andy let me stay in his overnight."

"Oh," They looked disappointed. There was a pause. "Well. That makes more sense, I guess."

Alice glanced at Sammi, who looked at her, then me, her mouth twisting to the side as she tried not to smile. Suddenly, we were all laughing, laughing hard. I braced my hand on my leg for support as I keeled over, in stitches, "Oh my God. You actually thought I . . . " I couldn't finish the sentence.

Sammi stood up fully after calming down, breathing hard as she wiped the tears from her eyes, still grinning and shaking her head, "C'mon, let's go get ready for training." We carried on walking, still laughing at each other.

Alice smirked and bumped my hip with hers as we reached the point where all the corridors branched off into room, and I turned in the other direction, "See you in a bit," She paused, smiling so she showed teeth, "Mrs. Biersack." I guessed that was Andy's surname, and simultaneously laughed, cursed at her and blushed as I finally remembered my room number – 66 – and left to prepare for the hours ahead.

~*~

Ashley had stopped by my room earlier – his was number 69, much to his amusement – to inform me that training would take place in the weapons room. Standing in the large, light, space of the room, I could see where it got its name: an array of homemade knives, swords, spears, bows, arrows sharpened to a deadly point and various other sharp implements I didn't know the names for were lining the walls. The older looking weapons were more professionally made, but others had been crafted from splinters of metal and wood, shards of broken glass and bone. I tried not to think about where they could have gotten the bone from.

Several thin mats were spread throughout the room, and I watched Ashley and Alan practice wrestling on one of them; sweat gleamed on their skin as they struggled with each other. We were waiting for the rest of the group that had been assigned this training session to show up; they were all taking their time, reluctant to carry on with their 'boring' daily routines after the excitement of the past few days. It certainly wasn't boring for me; I couldn't wait to start learning how to fight. I drummed my fingers impatiently against my thigh, wishing they'd hurry.

Just then, I heard muffled voices, talking and laughing animatedly, then around two dozen people entered the room: there was Andy, CC, Suki, Alice, laughing over something; Ronnie and Jake, deep in conversation; Vic and the tall, lanky, tattooed guy who I'd learnt was his brother, Mike, then others I didn't know. They all spread out in the room and, one by one, began to stretch.

I was unsure, and continued to hover near the corner, by a narrow bench, chewing at the skin of my lower lip awkwardly. I watched as Andy stretched his arm by folding it behind his head, causing his muscles to flex in an incredibly distracting way. Just then, he caught my eye and stopped his stretching to walk over to me.

"Hey, how you doing?" He enquired as he sat down next to me, a foot or so of space between us.

"Alright. A little tired." I shrugged, seating myself on the bench too. Andy clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Your own fault," It should've been harsh, but he was grinning, "Another reason why we shouldn't have a party – everyone's tired."

I rolled my eyes, half tempted to tell him to shut up, but there was something else on my mind; a nagging thought that had been worrying me for a while now, "So you know this whole training thing . . . the point of it's to learn how to kill people, right?"

"To kill minions," Andy corrected, but gestured for me to continue. I had half expected him to give me a _well, duh_ look when I had asked my question but he seemed genuinely curious as to what I was trying to say, “Go on.”

I looked down at my lap, knotting my fingers together, feeling foolish and cowardly, "I don't know . . . the, uh, the idea of it kind of unnerved me. You know. Killing." I hadn't wanted to think about it before, but knew I couldn't go about ignoring it any longer. I’d heard it said that if you ever kill, it haunts you for the rest of your life. Plus, I wasn't sure if I was exactly warrior material – I mean, seriously, I was unused physical exercise, let alone combat – whereas F.E.A.R.'s minions were lethal, trained soldiers, all tall and broad and unfailingly ruthless. I wouldn't stand a chance against one, let alone the whole army of them.

"Yeah, it takes some getting used to," He admitted, scratching the back of his head as he spoke, "At first we were all freaked out by the notion. And I'll admit, my first kill scared the shit out of me. I replayed it in my head for days. But then we remembered we weren't killing people, we were killing the idea of F.E.A.R. So I guess it's easier to think of it that way. The minions . . . Mallory, the minions aren't human. Not by my definition anyway. Sure, they have organs and blood pumping around their bodies and breath in their lungs, but they don't know how to love, how to be kind, how to _feel._ They can't be anything except what The Monarch wants. The only things they can do are hate, and kill. They don't have emotions, so we don't classify them as human."

“What do you mean by that –‘they can’t be anything except what The Monarch wants’?”

He looked at me, “Well, they’re altered psychologically. You didn’t know that?”

“No,” Maybe that’s why they seemed so unnaturally cold. I narrowed my eyes, “How do _you_ know that?”

I searched his face. His eyes were unflinching, though, “I assumed it was common knowledge. I’m not sure how The Monarch chooses minions. There’s certainly no advertisement for signing up. Maybe it’s something more sinister.”

“Like what? Human cloning?”

“Perhaps,” Andy looked thoughtful, “Or maybe they use prisoners and criminals and turn them into their sheep.”

That made more sense. I felt stupid for suggesting something so dramatic, “That’s probably more likely. My idea was kind of outlandish.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he reassured me, “It’s entirely possible, I suppose. You’re cleverer than you give yourself credit for.”

Praise had never sat comfortably with me. My face began to heat up, “Uh, thanks,” I decided to change the subject; I could feel his eyes on me, assessing my reaction, “So how many minions have you actually killed?”

Andy cocked his head to the side as he considered it, “I'm not sure, exactly. Three? Four?” he shrugged casually, “I don't really keep a score.”

I couldn't help but stare for a moment. This man had killed people – if the minions even counted as people – and was acting like it wasn't even a big deal.

A sudden intruding thought popped into my head. _Murderer._

 _No, no,_ I corrected myself _, not a murderer. A fighter. A warrior. A bringer of justice. Like we all are._ F.E.A.R. were the murderers. I was suddenly appalled at myself for thinking anything negative about the Legion. I shook my head a little as if to get rid of the thought.

Andy hadn't seemed to notice my reaction, “The only real encounter we've had recently with F.E.A.R.'s armies was the attack on the church. That one wasn't really necessary; it was more to do with making a point, showing F.E.A.R. we weren't just a bunch of idiots with weapons and no clue what we're doing. We've bided our time. And now it’s time to make a change,” He glanced over at the group suddenly, like he’d forgotten about them, “We’ve been talking too long. C’mon, we should join in.”

We rose from the seat as everyone began to gather in a loose semicircle roughly in the centre of the room, and went to stand in the group. I found myself between Suki and Mike.

It wasn’t until I reached the group I realized Andy had avoided answering my question about how he knew so much about the minions.

Still, his advice hadn’t really helped. I was still doubtful whether I could fight, whether I could be strong enough. Both mentally and physically. But at least one part of that would be covered today.

I looked to Andy, where he was stood at the edge of the opposite side of the group, expecting him to speak. But I was surprised when it was Jake stepped forwards. He stood in front of us all, then proceeded to look at each one of us intently, silently. Suki saw my confusion and explained quietly, "Jake's the best fighter out of all of us, so he leads training sessions."

That made sense. Andy was too slight to be truly lethal anyway, whereas Jake was a little broader, thicker muscles flexing under his skin whenever he moved his arms. The look in Jake's eyes as he examined us was devoid of emotion, hard. Something had changed in him; I could see that much despite not knowing him very well. Ella's death – _official_ death – had changed him overnight, and this was clear from his demeanor – the stiff line of his jaw, muscles taut, fists clenched.

I’d noticed people staring at him this morning with uncertainty in their eyes, not sure how to approach him. The only person who appeared not to be affected by any of this was CC; I had observed him with Jake at breakfast, and at the start of the session, chatting with him and smiling in a way that made his eyes crinkle happily, sometimes even laughing. He was the only one not treating Jake like he was a bomb that could explode at any time. I hoped Jake appreciated it.

Finally, after what seemed like a longer period of time than it actually was, he began to speak. Had it been any other point in the day except for training, due to my tiredness and the monotony of Jake's voice, I probably wouldn't have paid much attention to what was being said. But I did my best to listen intently as Jake went on about which weapons would be best for killing in different ways and which weapons were suited to which body types, et cetera. Most of the others weren't listening; they had probably heard this before, but I guessed it was being repeated for my benefit.

He then instructed us to have a try at each weapon to see which we were best at, while he would observe and advise us. Ronnie piped up to, yet again, to encourage us to focus on archery training today. From the eye-rolls that this brought on, I guessed everyone would much rather try their hand at one-on-one combat.

The group immediately dispersed once Jake had finished, making their ways over to different parts of the room. I saw Ashley head back towards the wrestling mat, while Kier, in another corner, stroked a wicked-looking blade lovingly, gazing fondly at it as though it were his one true love.

Ronnie looked so despondent standing at the archery station by himself that I went over and joined him, much to his delight. At once, he began to tell me about different bows and all the different sorts of arrows, a dreamy look in his eyes as he did. I guessed that this was Ronnie's field of expertise, and found myself to be right when he picked up a bow and loaded it with one fluid movement. He shot the arrow at a target on the opposite wall and was rewarded with a perfect bulls-eye. Then with a second arrow, he split the first straight down the middle without so much as glancing at it.

I gave him a hugely impressed round of applause, to which he smiled bashfully. I saw, on the other side of the room, Andy give me an approving little nod. Puzzled, I smiled briefly back before returning my attention to Ronnie.

When I picked up the bow, however, I found the large, awkward shape difficult to hold straight in one hand, and was unable to prevent it from wobbling no matter how many times Ronnie showed me the correct way to hold it. Just as I expected, the arrow missed the target completely, yet I couldn't help feeling disappointed. He had made it look so easy!

"It's okay, Mal," He patted my shoulder reassuringly, "You're not gonna be great at something on your first try. It takes time, and practice."

 _But that's the thing_ , I thought with frustration as I glared at the target, _We don't_ have _enough time. F.E.A.R. doesn't need time to train, and as soon as they get everything sorted they're coming for us, no doubt about it._ Despite my doubtfulness, I smiled back at Ronnie and picked the bow up again.

After several more tries, I was still unable to shoot straight. Even with a crossbow, and again with throwing knives, where I didn't have to struggle with the frame of the bow versus my small stature, the best I got was the white outer edge of the target. I grimaced and exhaled in a way that made my bangs fan out from my face – my terrible aim was becoming painfully clear.

"Well, archery isn't for everyone." Ronnie, who had been as patient as a saint with me, dismissed me with a smile as there were finally others waiting for their turn. I handed the weapons back to him before scanning the room to decide what I could do next without completely humiliating myself.

Jake, when I approached him, suggested that I try to build up some more muscle tone before I engaged in more intense combat. He gave the soft, unmuscled flesh of my arms a pointed look, before directing me towards the weights, where Vic and Mike were laughing at each other's antics as they competed to see who could lift the heaviest load.

I hesitantly picked up one of the smaller weights up and found it to be surprisingly heavy, yet no so heavy that I was unable to lift it. After observing the way the two men lifted theirs, I copied, but was forced to stop after a few minutes due to the burning muscles in my arms, unused to labour. I rested for maybe a minute, then repeated.

However, the monotony of repeating the action over and over soon grew tedious, and I was soon glancing around and looking for something else to do. I noticed that the most people were around the wrestling mats, and so I dropped the weights and crossed the room, curious.

The group was laughing at something Ashley, who was standing on one side of the mat, had just said as I nudged my way into the circle next to Suki. She gave me a smile as a 'hello' before I turned my attention to what they were all watching.

Andy was in the centre of the circle, facing a kind of stocky, red-faced, blond boy I didn't know.

"So picture this," Andy was saying to him, "You're alone, out in the desert, and I'm one of the minions. I've cornered you, and there's nowhere to run. What do you do?" He began to circle the boy, who looked to be not much older than me, slowly, never breaking eye contact. Blond guy glanced around himself, looking increasingly nervous.

"Um," His voice was slow, unsure, "Attack you?"

"Go on then." Was all Andy replied.

"Huh?"

"If this scenario were real, you'd be dead by now," Andy's voice held no impatience, no condescension or any trace of a sneer, only stating a plain fact, "You're going to have to think – and act – quickly if you want to have the upper hand in this sort of situation. So," He moved his feet slightly apart as he braced himself. He nodded to the guy, "Attack me."

Blond boy did his best not to hesitate this time. He screwed up his face before charging straight towards Andy, hands balled up into fists.

Just as he was about to collide with Andy, Andy stepped to the side, neatly dodging Blond guy's now outstretched fist. Then, in another lighting-fast movement, he swung his arm out so just as the boy ran past, he was stopped by the barrier of Andy's arm. Then, before Blondie had a chance to react, Andy used his foot to knock him off his feet and to the floor, the mat making a soft _whump_ sound as he fell.

"To have the element of surprise, and therefore the advantage, I think you should work on making your attacks less obvious," Seeing Blondie's confused and slightly indignant look, Andy explained further, "I mean, you could attack from a less predictable angle, rather than straight on, or maybe feint to the side, or something. Anything that'll catch them off-guard."

Blond boy nodded thoughtfully as he took this in. Then, he said, "Show me."

So Andy did, and then they practiced that a few times. I zoned out of what he was saying for a while, idly watching the feather tattoo on his neck move as he moved, rippling like it was falling through the sky.

When my thoughts did come back into focus, it was because I heard my name being said, and felt someone nudge my arm. Glancing up, I realized everyone had their eyes on me.

"Mal," Andy repeated patiently, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "I was asking if you'd help with this next one?"

"Oh," I felt a little stupid, and took a hesitant step forwards and into the centre of the circle, "Um. Okay."

The feeling of idiocy only increased when Andy explained the next scenario, "Same concept as before except Mallory's been injured and she can't fight or defend herself very well, so you have to stop me from getting to her. Okay?"

 I knew I hadn't had any real training yet, but I still felt a little offended that all I had to do was stand there like a helpless little bimbo. Blond guy gave me a trembling, anxious smile, but that was probably because of the fierce scowl now on my face. Then he angled himself so I was blocked by his large shoulder. I stood there lamely, resisting the urge to fidget.

Almost immediately, Andy sprang forwards. Blond boy hadn't been expecting this, so with a small exclamation of surprise, whirled around in a panic, flinging his arm out to push me back behind him. Only he'd overestimated my height because his arm hit me on the side of the head, rather painfully. It was so unexpected that it knocked me off my feet, and in the same split second I registered that I was falling, I also realized that this part of the floor was not a mat and was actually hard, rough rock and I was about to faceplant it.

My head smacked into the rock; my skull sang with pain and a small cry escaped my lips involuntarily. I was about to move to get up when suddenly I was being lifted by a pair of arms. I looked up, and came face to face with Andy's concerned expression. His face was only a few inches away and his luminous eyes locked with mine for several moments.

"You okay?" he asked quietly. I was acutely aware of his hand on my waist. The heat from his palm radiated through the fabric of my t-shirt and was warming my skin.

I nodded, despite my temple beginning to throb, because I knew if I opened my mouth something completely humiliating would come out, like, "Now I am _._ "

He held my gaze for a few more moments, and I felt my pulse jump.

"Careful," was all he murmured, before pulling me upright. His voice sounded strange in a way that was indefinable. I knew the whole thing had lasted seconds yet in my mind it was as though it had been slowed down into minutes. He released his hold on me and I was dismissed with a nod. Quickly, I hurried back to my place next to Suki.

I hoped she wouldn't notice my warm face, but I swore the girl had psychic powers. She nudged my arm with her elbow, and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "You're blushing!" with a kind of wicked delight. There was an impish smirk on her face. I grimaced and glanced away, feeling my cheeks burn even hotter.

Andy _was_ quite attractive; I had noticed it ever since I first got here, but recently I was feeling a little more . . . confused. The way he looked at me sometimes, and moments like the one just now and in his room last night made me feel . . . I didn’t know. Different. More self-conscious and gawky and girlish. But I had never felt this way before about anyone. Even though it was very soon, almost too soon to tell, it was undeniable that, on some level, I had . . . feelings. I sighed internally, frustrated. There were girls I had known in school that navigated these waters so easily, naturally knowing the right thing to do or say when it came to the opposite gender. I almost wished I'd paid more attention to their antics now. I returned my attention to the circle, but it had somehow lost its interest now.

After a while Suki and I walked off to go and train with the swords. She showed me how to hold them, move with them, and after a while I felt I had become quite good at it. Jake joined in too, which made the work more difficult and yet more fun; he even praised my intuition. Despite my best efforts, though, it did not having my full focus and I was unable to stop glancing around. Suki asked me if I was alright several times, and each time I nodded, though I couldn't shake these feelings or my distractedness.

What I did notice, though, was that Andy didn't look at me for the rest of the session.


	11. Chapter 11

"Hey, you guys ready yet?" Alice enquired as she stepped into the room. I was perched on the edge of Suki's mattress while she rummaged through her many clothes. As I hadn't acquired any clothing of my own, she had been letting me use hers for the past few days, and was currently searching for something for me to wear to this evening’s party. Alice and Sammi had been rushing around all afternoon preparing, while Andy had watched with a scowl, grumbling under his breath.

"Another twenty minutes, I'd imagine," came Suki's reply. I sat and waited patiently, twirling a lock of my shower-damp hair around my right index finger. Despite having showered thoroughly before training, I showered immediately again afterwards, due to my sticky-with-sweat skin and hair. In training we had to complete an extensive fitness regime: lunge after lunge, push-up after push-up, endless stomach crunches and so much more. If it had been 'extensive' for them, it had been hell for me. I hadn't done much in the way of exercise ever in my life, and so it had been incredibly hard to endure. The session had been so intense that I collapsed to the floor halfway through, hair plastered to my forehead with sweat and vision fading in and out of focus. I had then been made to sit out for twenty minutes to get my breath back, all the while feeling like an idiot. Even now, my legs still trembled with fatigue, and I had a feeling they'd be even worse tomorrow. It was clear I'd need a lot more fitness training before I had as much stamina as everyone else. On the positive side, at least I could handle a weapon now, defend myself.

Aside from the Andy thing I had been worrying about earlier, there was another thought nagging a little at the back of mind. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, though, and it annoyed the hell out of me. I frowned at nothing, irritated.

"Here, try these." My musings were interrupted by Suki flinging a few garments my way; they weren't fancy, just a t-shirt and pants. Suki had explained to me what parties were like here; in the city, it was only the extremely rich who could and would throw ‘parties’, and even then they were suffocatingly formal, more like a group of people sitting around than anything else. Whereas here, they had a party for everything: a birthday, Christmas . . . you name it. The parties weren't especially great or grand, she had told me, just relaxing for one evening and having fun in the main hall. But it was anything to break the monotony of their daily routine or to distract from their possible fates of death. Only now, they had to be so much more careful, as F.E.A.R. were now completely aware of their existence – and despite not having declared war on them, Suki said she had a feeling that'd come soon – and them being too conspicuous could prove to be fatal. Which was one of the other reasons Andy had been so reluctant to throw a party, I guessed.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Alice seat herself on the mattress next to me. She nudged my arm with her elbow, "Everything okay? You seem distracted."

I shook my head and blinked, "Sorry. Just daydreaming." I chuckled, then proceeded to pick up the items Suki had handed me and inspect them. Slim-fit, dark gray jeans and a pale blue tank top. Suki turned around where she was sat, and raised her eyebrows as if silently seeking my approval of the clothing. I smiled and nodded back. Just as she was turning back to her clothes, I suddenly remembered what it was that had been bugging me.

"Hey," I blurted, "How come there are no adults in this place?" I remembered back to when I had asked Andy the same thing yesterday evening, and he suddenly became hostile and closed off. It had only made me even more curious and eager to solve this mystery, and I figured that if he wouldn't give me any answers, surely one of my new friends would?

I realized instantly that I was mistaken. Suki froze, the line of her shoulders becoming rigid, and next to me I saw Alice glance at me with a dark expression. They remained acted like they hadn’t heard me.

"Guys . . . ?" I pressed on, glancing tentatively between the two of them.

Alice's voice had an undercurrent of steeliness when she eventually broke the silence, "There just aren't. Okay?" There was enough implied in the last word that I knew not to push it any further. Then, with a sort of forced, clearly fake chuckle, Suki started jabbering about how awesome tonight would be and wondering if they had any alcohol in storage.

I lapsed into silence again. Their attitudes had given me clues. I didn't know the story, but clearly, from their reactions just now and Andy's response last night, I knew something bad had happened. Very bad. Despite only having a little information to get by on, I figured I could ask around at the party, see who would talk, who wouldn't. And if there was alcohol, there'd be an even bigger chance of me getting the information I needed to solve this strange and intriguing puzzle. I’d heard that alcohol loosens tongues. My toes curled in my boots, excited, and I tried not to grin to myself as I got up to begin changing my clothes. _Just like a spy_ , I thought childishly.

It seemed my day had just gotten even more interesting.

 ~*~ 

I sighed in frustration as the third person I had asked so far tonight turned away from me with his face closed off. He continued talking to the girl next to him as though I wasn't even there, hadn't even walked up and enquired about the suspicious silence on the matter of the adults.

It wasn't that surprising any more. They had all reacted that way. The only person who had done anything more had been Austin, who had stared at me in shock, for several seconds before whispering that I shouldn't be asking those sorts of questions, that it wouldn't win me any popularity.

I didn't care. I wanted to know. Yet he had told me that 'People didn't want to talk about it'. _You're telling me. One minute they're friendly as can be, you breathe a word about the adults and they clam up and look at you as though you've just announced you're working for F.E.A.R._ I rolled my eyes to myself in frustration.

Austin had confirmed my suspicion that something had happened, but hadn't given me any hints as to what it was. Getting information was proving to be more difficult than I had anticipated. It must have been pretty awful if absolutely no-one would tell me anything. I exhaled loudly, my breath lifting my hair off my forehead for a brief second before it settled back into place. I proceeded to turn away from the guy and scan the chatting clusters of people for someone else I could attempt to interrogate.

Suddenly, I caught the eye of Jinxx, who was stood in a circle of people who were talking and laughing animatedly. It looked as though he had been watching my actions for a while, and the look on his face hinted at suspicion. He leaned over to Ashley, who was next to him, and murmured something. Ashley glanced up at me, then back to Jinxx, and nodded. Before I had time to react, they were making their way over. _Uh-oh,_ my internal monologue commented, _this looks ominous_.

I pretended to be very busy studying something in the distance as they stopped in front of me, suddenly very sheepish.

"Mallory." Ashley's voice made me look up, confused. He didn't sound annoyed, or angry.

". . . Yeah?"

"We wanna show you something." He had a hint of a smile on his face, which relaxed me. _He doesn't look mad_. Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I needed was having my cover blown. I just had this urge, this need to know why everyone was so secretive; there was something driving me, pushing me to see how much I could get people to tell me. But I hadn't asked either of them about the adults – I wasn't that stupid. They'd report me to Andy most likely, and he would be the most pissed at me for sneaking around like this, seeing as I’d already asked him and he had told me not to go looking for answers. But it was the only way I could hope to curb my burning curiosity.

"Okay. Sure." I replied apprehensively, and followed the two men as they turned and began to walk over to the other side of the room. I suspected they were trying to distract me from my quest for information, but I complied nonetheless. This could prove to be interesting.

"Where's Andy?" I asked Jinxx as casually as I could manage. There’d been no trace of him all evening.

"In his room," Jinxx replied, almost a little sadly, "He doesn't really like parties."

I tilted my head to the side, frowning, "Why?" I knew I was pushing boundaries again, being nosy, but I was so annoyed by the lack of responses so far that I didn't really care any more.

It was clear that Jinxx wasn't really paying attention. If he had been, he probably wouldn't have said, “Because they remind him of Juliet.”

His eyes went wide, as though realizing his mistake.

I was immediately intrigued, “Who's Juliet?”

“No-one. Forget I said anything.”

“But—”

"Mal, I said forget it. Seriously. _Shit_. Please don't mention anything to anyone."

He looked so worried that I dropped it, "Okay. Sorry." But that sure as hell wasn't going to stop me from analyzing this new piece of information.

Before I could, however, Ashley called for us to hurry up, his voice lighter now and full of some excitement. We reached the large raised platform on the far side of the room, and he kept walking until he stood next to the decorated wall. I followed, slightly mystified.

Up this close, I saw that the large star symbol had been drawn on with a mixture of black paint and a dark chalky substance. The words surrounding the symbol and covering the rest of the wall, I saw, were names. The names of every person in the Legion, criss-crossing across the rough stone surface in multiple styles of handwriting. I stared up at the surface in a sort of awe.

"It's a sort of custom we have," Ashley was explaining, "Everyone writes their name on the wall. It's just . . . it's nice. It gives us a sort of emphasized sense of unity, I guess. And we figured it was time for you to put your name down," He flashed a grin, "After all, you're one of us now."

We were obvious enough that people were turning their heads to see what was going on, and at that last part, someone gave a sort of cheer. I grinned, suddenly bashful but overjoyed. I’d worried before I came here that that no-one would like me, or I wouldn't be able to cope under high-pressure situations or be good at fighting, but that stuff didn't matter right now. Here I was, and more and more people in the room were slowly turning towards us to pay attention to what was going on.

So many, that when Ashley extended his hand holding a stubby black stick – I took it from his outstretched palm, ignoring that it left black marks on my fingers – everyone joined in when CC cheered loudly, the whole room giving me applause. I ducked my head, the cheering in my ears, grinning like an idiot and fighting stupidly happy tears as I took a step up to the wall.

Searching for an empty space to write in, I paused to gather my thoughts and properly realize that this was happening, this sealing of my fate. I was becoming truly a part of the Legion. There was no going back now.

After that, I reached out and began to slowly write. The room fell into an anticipatory hush. When I had finished the tail of the 'y', they erupted into applause again. I worked up the courage to look at the crowd before me, and saw the faces looking back. I just stood there, giggling breathlessly, high on excitement and smiling like the happiest person in the world. Because, in that moment, I was. I felt like I was finally home, after sixteen years of drifting aimlessly.

As I left the stage, Suki rushed up to me and wrapped me in another of those rib-crushing hugs that seemed to be her trademark. "I feel like a proud Mom!" She beamed at me, and though I smiled back, I thought then of my own mother, back in the city. I wondered how she was. Was she scared? Had F.E.A.R. hurt her, or Ollie, or Dad? Did she still think of me or hope I was alive? Did she pray for me in church, or had she accepted that I was probably dead?

I hoped that if she could see me now, she'd be proud of me. Proud of me for not conforming to F.E.A.R. and making something of myself. Proud of me for doing something she had never had the guts to do. And even though I hadn't proved myself yet, I made a secret, silent promise to her in my mind that I would do my best to be great. For her, and my dad, and Oliver. And if I died at the hands of F.E.A.R., I would die trying. I could promise that much.

People had moved away from me as they resumed their conversations, and I heard Ashley saying something about going to 'storage' to see if he could find drinks, to which several people whooped delightedly in agreement. The solitude in the middle of the crowd was odd, like being a stationary pebble in the middle of swirling, rushing river.

I snapped out of my emotions as I was accidentally jogged by a girl walking past. She apologized before carrying on; I nodded back, but my thoughts had abruplty switched back to getting my information. And what Jinxx had let slip minutes before.

_Who is Juliet?_

"Thirty minutes to midnight, people!" Vic announced, his words echoing through the room. A few individuals hollered back before returning to their conversations. I had never been to a party of any sort, but even I knew that midnight on New Year's Eve was the exact moment people celebrated the most, because it was the very beginning of a brand new year. Wiping the slate clean. A fresh start, an attempt to make the coming year better than the last one. I supposed that this had even more significance to the rebels, because they knew that this would be the year we defeated F.E.A.R.

A roar of cheering sounded all around me, making me start. I looked up to see Ashley and two other guys appear in the doorway to the hall, lugging several crates. As soon as the boxes were dragged into the room and set down, everyone started to gather around them. Pretty soon everyone had a bottle in their hand or to their lips. Except me. I doubted they'd let me have some anyway because of Andy's rage at the weed incident. But I didn't want any; I'd learnt my lesson after the marijuana.

I sat perched on the edge of the stage and observed everyone else. The alcohol began to take effect within a short period of time. People's faces grew redder, their laughter more raucous, speech more slurred. Feeling alienated, I hopped up and began to make my way through the crowds, seeing if I could find any of my friends that were sober. As I neared the other side of the room, it was clear my efforts were in vain; pretty much everyone was intoxicated on some level. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted someone lurking in the gloom just beyond the entrance.

"Doesn't anyone ever tell you how creepy you look skulking in the shadows?" I said when I reached Andy, who was smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the uneven stone wall. The lights from the hall and the darkness of the corridor made his face a starkly contrasting portrait of ink, snow and sapphire.

Amusement danced in his eyes, "Occasionally."

"You should join the party. I would say it's fun, but being the only sober person kinda isn't." I felt like I was making a fool of myself, talking too much, but I couldn't shut up. Already I felt my face warming, and not stumbling on my words became a conscious effort. _What the hell is wrong with me? Get it together_ , _idiot!_

Andy didn't seem to notice, smiling calmly, "I'll think about it." He scanned the crowds, then turned his attention back to me, "So, you're officially one of us now."

"Yeah," I couldn't help but smile, "Feels good. Like I finally belong somewhere."

"I can imagine. You didn't fit in back in town?"

"You could say that," I shrugged, relaxing into the wall opposite him, "Never really had friends. Even my family was wary of me. I've always disagreed with everything F.E.A.R. stand for. I miss my family, but . . . I just couldn't stay any longer."

He nodded thoughtfully. Before speaking again, he tapped the end of his cigarette and little snowflakes of ash drifted to the ground, "I was born there, but we left when I was too young to remember it. But I hear it's pretty miserable."

"Yeah," was all I murmured back, reluctant to dwell on the negative memories when I had been in such a glowing mood earlier. Andy tilted his head to the side as he regarded me, but said nothing more. Then, he shaped his lips in a way that when he next exhaled pale bluish smoke, it was expelled in a ring shape before dissolving in the air. The smell that hit my nose was pungent and made me want to cough. I watched with fascination as he made loops in the air a few more times.

"Can I have one?" I gestured to the packet in his pocket.

He arched one dark eyebrow, "How does 'no' sound?"

The cigarettes weren’t really appealing to me, but I found it bizarre how Andy and Danny both smoked them like they were drinking water. If they tasted as bad as they smelled, it’d be enough to make anyone retch; but if there was some sort of reason why they smoked them so much, I wanted to know what it was.

He continued, "Not after what happened last night. And besides, they're bad for you. They put tar in your lungs."

"Hypocrite," I pointed out.

Andy chuckled at this, "Yeah, well, I started ages ago, when I was young and made stupid choices." Seeing me open my mouth to counter his point with one of my own, he shook his head, "You’re not having one, and that's that."

"Fine," I crossed my arms. I glanced around; back out at the hall, down the corridor, then at Andy, "So, you joining the party or not?" I waited to observe his reaction closely; after what Jinxx had let slip, I wondered if Andy’d react in any way.

But his expression remained the same, eyes guarded as they usually were. He shrugged, "Might as well." Then he stood up straight, dropped the stub of the cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot. I followed him as he entered the hall, feeling kind of puzzled.

The moment we entered the light, someone called out, "Hey, Andy finally showed up!"

Everyone started calling him, teasing him, making jokes about him finally coming out of his lair, or how he wanted to be careful in case the bright lights turned him to ash. Laughter filled the room. Andy rolled his eyes with a chuckle as if to say he knew this would happen, but he grabbed the last beer from the crate and pulled the cap off with his teeth before continuing further into the room.

Suddenly, "Two minutes!" was called out. Everyone started chattering excitedly. I saw as we walked that only a few individuals were really drunk; the rest were just tipsy, with red faces and a little more sparkle in their eyes than usual.

"One minute!" Someone else yelled. I glanced at Andy. We were both still stood next to each other to the side of the room. He was observing the rest of the party with a smirk, sipping his drink.

"So, what happens in one minute?" I enquired.

He turned back to me, "Well, everyone sorta just cheers and hugs everyone else, then we have this song we sing. It's a tradition."

"Thirty seconds!" Came the call from our right.

"A song?" The anxiety I felt began to creep into my voice.

He hummed a vague sort of tune, then told me, "Don't worry, you'll pick it up pretty quickly. You should probably get someone to teach you all our songs. We sing a lot," He shrugged, "Again, a tradition."

"Ten!" A voice that was distinctly Kier yelled. When I caught his eye, he raised his bottle towards me and grinned.

"Nine!" Several more voices shouted, including a guy with sandy hair and two lip piercings who stood next to us. I hadn't seen him before, yet he looked familiar, which puzzled me.

"Eight!" Pretty much the whole room had joined in now. Andy shot me a grin, and we both joined in on the, "Seven!"

"Six!"

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!" I saw Danny enter the room suddenly at this point, and stand in the doorway scanning the crowd as if he was looking for somebody.

"One!"

The whole room exploded in a deafening uproar of, "Happy new fuckin' year!"

I laughed, but then the song started.

" _This is New Year's day!_ " Everyone sang loudly, " _Faith will find a way!_ " Every other line was punctuated with a drunken burp or giggle, which lessened the effect the song might've had, yet it still had an impact. People had their arms around each other or were swaying in time.

" _We'll keep marching on, and on, and on. It's New Year's day! So rise from the ashes._ " All of the voices seemed to become one, and many were off-key or slurred from drunkness, but it didn't matter. We were the Legion, and we were all fighting for the same cause, and that was all that mattered right now.

The song repeated, and as Andy had promised, I was able to pick up on the tune and words pretty easily, and joined in until it came to a finish, and then everyone cheered again.

Unexpectedly, lip piercing guy pulled me into a hug, "Happy new year!" He had to yell to be heard over everyone else, and I could do was nod in bewilderment before he moved on.

I received several more hugs, kisses on the cheek that smelled of beer and shouts in the ear of, 'Happy new year!' that I was pretty certain would make me deaf after tonight. I turned to Andy once Kellin had moved away to hug it out with Vic.

He grinned at me, then outstretched his arms, "Happy new year, Mal."

I took a step forwards, and felt his arms wrap around my shoulders. However, I was too short to do the same so hesitantly put mine around his waist. After a few seconds, I tried to step back, but he didn't let go.

I stood, confused, for a moment, and then looked up to see him gazing back down at me. I resisted the urge to gulp nervously, then glanced away and back up. _Nope, he's still staring._

“Um . . .”

Andy blinked, then stepped away, dropping his arms, "Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I just . . .” He looked a little wistful as though remembering something that happened a long time ago. There was a pause.

Saving me from any awkwardness, at that moment I was grabbed and yanked into a rib-crushing hug from someone too tall to be Suki. A very drunk CC giggled before giving me a slobbery, wet kiss. He was probably aiming for my mouth, but ended up somewhere on my chin. I wiped the drool away, laughing at his antics. Andy stepped away hurriedly, but CC turned around and hollered something like, "Oh, no you don't!" Before grabbing Andy's face and planting another kiss on his lips. Suki – who had been with CC – and I both looked at each other, then at Andy's comically wide eyes as he tried to push CC off him. We, and several others, burst out laughing.

We were close to hysterics when CC pulled away, wiped his mouth and winked before stumbling off. Suki went after him, still cackling.

Andy wiped his own mouth with his sleeve, looking bewildered, "Well, uh, that was . . . unexpected."

Thankfully, preventing any more ungainly conversation, at that moment Danny appeared, looking very serious, which stopped my laughter. Whenever I had seen Danny, he was never serious.

"I need to show you something; it’s in the lab." He placed a hand on Andy's shoulder.

The grin was immediately wiped off Andy's face, and he now had the same businesslike expression on his face that he had in training. He too had picked up on Danny's tone. "Yes?"

"Come with me. Bring Mal, too." Danny glanced at me. "Don't think she'd wanna be left on her own in here."

"Lab?" I was mystified as we made our way down the dim corridor, Danny leading the way.

"My computer lab," He said over his shoulder. "My lair."

"Uh, right."

We turned off into a wide corridor with the kitchen on one side. Several pots and pans sat atop the multiple stoves, all steaming and bubbling – well, they weren’t so much pans as bowls, buckets, anything that could hold copious amounts of food; and the stoves weren’t so much stoves as makeshift structures that housed little fires. The corridor was smoky despite the hole in the ceiling, and I spluttered on the thick air.

Sammi had explained to me earlier that they could only cook at night, as the smoke during the day would pinpoint their location. Danny paused to lean over and inspect the pots, before muttering to himself and continuing; I guessed it was his job to monitor them or something

We reached a door at the end of the corridor. It was an actual door, like the one to Andy's room, but rather than wood, it was dark grey industrial plastic with 'FUCK OFF' painted across it in a scrawl. Danny pulled the door open with a flourish and stood to the side, gesturing for me to enter the room first with his arm.

The whole room was lit a pale green shade from all the blinking lights on various machines, the buttons, and most of all, the three screens that took up one wall. Wires and cables of all different colours coiled across the floor like snakes, and I picked my way hesitantly across the floor as I tried not to stand on any. A figure in the corner made me jump, but I relaxed after I saw it was just Laurence, the nervous guy from earlier who I had assumed was Kier's boyfriend. He was sipping from a steaming mug and rearranging discs that lined a shelf. He gave me a shy smile and pushed his taped-together glasses up his nose.

Danny plunked himself down into the chair that was in front of the screens. Andy leaned over his one shoulder as he frowned up at the centre monitor. I did the same, but all I saw was a large, neon green ring with a matching dot in the middle and minuscule white writing in the corner that was a mixture of letters, numbers and characters I hadn't even seen before, flickering and changing every so often. Our faces were washed out and lit sickly lime from the glow. Andy frowned a little more, the crease between his eyebrows deepening, "I don't see the problem."

Danny huffed in frustration and pointed to something in the far right corner, "Look."

We all leaned forwards simultaneously to get a better look at the tiny thing Danny's finger was directed at.

Just outside the edge of the green loop, a few of the pixels on the screen were flickering, fading to a dark khaki before going back to their normal green colour. Andy looked at Danny, "How'd you notice that? You're not exactly observant at the best of times.”

“It’s nice to know your opinion of me is so high, Andy. I can be very observant when I want to be. You just don’t see it. What I notice half the time might surprise you – for example, the other day I noticed that you—”

“Just answer the damn question.” Andy looked like he was trying not to smile.

"I didn't notice it. Laurence did. He was dusting the screen for me."

"So what do you think the issue here is?" Andy asked, but I couldn't keep my confusion to myself any longer.

"Um, excuse me?" I began hesitantly. They looked at me, "I have no idea what any of this is." I gestured to the large monitor.

"Oh, right," Danny mused, "I forget you're a city girl. This is a comput—”

"Yes," I was irritated, "I know what a fucking computer is. I mean, what's on the screen?"

"Alright, alright, calm your tits," Danny muttered, but then Andy shot him a look. He sighed, "See the green circle in the centre? Basically, that's us. That area," He pointed to the area inside the larger loop, "Is the desert surrounding us. This is useful for seeing incoming threats. But they're usually a red dot. I wondered if the screen was broken, but I checked and it's perfect." He scowled at the monitor. "I don't know what it is."

So many questions had built up; namely, how did it work? Laurence had ambled over, and he leaned down to say something to Danny. I zoned out at that point because they were using words that I was pretty sure made up and seemed to have far too many syllables in them. Instead, I watched Andy. He looked like he was pretending to pay attention, but he probably had no better an understanding of it than me. I smiled to myself as I watched his forehead crease in confusion, which was totally cute. _Oh, get a freaking grip._

But I couldn't help my thoughts wandering back to this mysterious 'Juliet'. _I wonder if sh--_

My glancing up at the screen cut my thoughts off, because what I saw made my stomach lurch and my heart thump unpleasantly. "Shit," I breathed, staring in horror.

The pixels had turned into an unmistakeably red dot.

Danny glanced up at my exclamation, then followed the direction of my gaze to the screen. Even in the dim light I could see the colour drain from his face. Laurence made a sound that could only be described as a whimper. Only Andy seemed unaffected, but his jaw tensed up. "What's the threat?"

Danny was already furiously typing away at the keyboard, "I'm looking it up now."

The dot began to blink steadily. Danny continued to type. All of us except him had our eyes trained on it.

The clacking sound of the keys stopped suddenly. Danny squinted at some text in the corner of the screen; his eyes went wide and his face was even greyer than before, if that was possible, as he leaned back in his seat.

"What? What is it?" I couldn't keep the impatience and worry from my voice.

He looked up at me. "F.E.A.R."

_Oh no. No, no, no._

"On New year's? Are you sure?" Andy was skeptical.

Danny whirled around in his seat. "Does this look like a fucking joke to you?" He snapped, but I could see the panic in his eyes. The red dot began to move, ever so slowly on the screen, but it was unmistakeably travelling towards the centre circle. Towards us.

I found myself wringing my hands fretfully. "What are we going to do? The rest of them are drunk. We can't fight with drunken soldiers. Oh God, oh God." I was panicking out loud. They were staring at me, so I quickly shut up.

"No." Danny's voice was almost a whisper. "It's worse then that, Mal."

"Worse?" My voice raised a few octaves, "Worse? What could possibly be worse than--"

Danny, Laurence and Andy all looked at each other; Andy looked as though he had just realized what was happening. Even he looked kind of fearful, and that was even more worrying.

They all said, at the same time, "Bomb threat."


End file.
